


Ruination

by capmarvel



Series: Ruination [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Peter, Adopted Peter Parker, Avengers Family, Civil War, Family Drama, Family Feels, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), Teen Peter Parker, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capmarvel/pseuds/capmarvel
Summary: Peter just wants his dads to come home, even if that means going to Berlin to fight one of them.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the most Steve-friendly fic out there. Canon to a point, but then diverges into an original storyline. That being said, I own nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry Peter.”

_Thud._

His feet landed softly on the hard cement of the rooftop, his fingers on his left hand pressing gently against the surface to balance himself. The crouched position had become one of his trademark poses whilst out on the streets of New York, one he hadn’t really intended to adopt, but he used nonetheless. He looked up to see the sun slowly receding behind the buildings in the distance. Peter usually made the effort to catch a glimpse of the setting sun in the afternoon, something he could only do on school days, but it was one of his favourite parts of the day. The oranges and pinks that streaked through the sky that evening were more magnificent than usual, and Peter found himself perched on the edge of the building as the glowing orb shrunk further and further. He cringed a little bit as he sat there, his ribs aching from the fight he’d been in earlier. Hopefully, he’d be able to hide it from dad and pops.

He’d come to this particular rooftop often, as it was tall enough to allow him to see almost all of Manhattan stretched out before him, as well as Queens and Brooklyn over to his right. A strong sense of ease and security flooded through him as the building he was on, afforded him the view of The Avenger’s Tower in the distance. 

_Home._

The building now dominated the New York skyline and would be hard to miss from any other building in the entire city. However, from where he was now, he could just make out his bedroom window on one of the upper floors, with his enhanced sight, and cringed slightly as he realised that he must have left his light on this morning. Pops was going to be so mad when he got home. Peter frowned a little bit at that, thinking that normally, his pops would’ve turned the light off anyway, and gotten mad at him later. He hoped he and dad hadn’t been called out on another mission today. Dad had only just returned from work stuff the other day, so he was really looking forward to some time with the two of them. 

Deciding that he was going to have to start heading home and find out for himself, Peter dusted himself off and shot a web out at one the nearest buildings. Making sure it was secure, he jumped off the ledge confidently and swung his way towards the Tower.

* * *

He straightened out his clothes nervously before walking through the sliding doors of his home. He still, after so many years, found it weird to share the entrance to his home with the thousands of other people who made their way in and out of the tower every day, but the guards and receptionists were familiar enough with him, that he no longer had to go through any of the additional security procedures upon entry. He received a nod from one of the current ladies on shift behind the counter and gave her a slight smile as he made his way towards the elevator. He fiddled around in his bag for a few seconds, sure he’d put his clearance card in here this morning. 

After another minute or two of thoroughly searching through his backpack, he cursed angrily at the realisation that his card simply wasn’t there. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the safest thing in the world to leave his backpack lying in the nearest alleyway whilst he was out webslinging. Ducking his head sheepishly, he made his way towards the receptionist he’d partially greeted before. 

“Hey.”

She looked up at him with a kind smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr Parker, what can I do for you?”

When he’d first asked his Dads about why they’d given him a different last name than either of them, he’d struggled to understand their concerns over his privacy. Now though, he couldn’t be more grateful for the anonymity it granted him at school, allowing him to have a somewhat normal adolescence. 

The lady – ‘Lisa’, as her nametag read – waited patiently as he bit his lip, trying to phrase his question.

“Uh…so I may have happened to have misplaced-”, she quirked an eyebrow at him, “-or lost…yeah, lost my ID today, is there any way you could, please, get me up and ask the security guys to grab me a new one?”

Yeah, so he definitely didn’t get his Dad’s charisma or charm. Instead, he just smiled awkwardly at her.

“What about your backup card Mr Parker? Your fathers are trying to limit the printing of further high-access clearance cards over security concerns that have arisen after the Avengers all moved into the tower. You’ve already been granted three replacements in 2 months.”

Damnit. 

“Uh yeah, but that was like four years ago right? I mean really, shouldn’t there be less concern with the Avengers here anyway? I mean, if anyone can defend the Tower...”

Lisa sat there, looking patient, yet thoroughly unimpressed.

“…and it may have been my backup card that I’ve mi-lost today.” He turned on the puppy eyes, that he was pretty convinced only worked on his dads. “Please, Lisa. It’s like 7 o’clock and my dads are gonna go nuts if I’m not up there in like 2 minutes and the only way that can happen is if…”

She rolled her eyes at him but nodded her head anyway, shooing him off to the elevator.

“Thanks Lisa, you’re the best!”

* * *

The elevator opened onto the penthouse level with only a soft ping. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been unsettlingly quiet on the ride up, but the shouting coming from the kitchen was anything but.

“You can’t seriously think these accords are a good idea, Tony!”

Pops shouting was never a good thing, because unlike dad, pops never shouted. Like, ever. He crept around the corner, trying to get a better understanding of what they could be fighting over. 

“Well I’m not really seeing any other solution right now Steve. We can’t just keep acting with impunity and expect not to face any consequences for our actions. People died in Lagos last month Steve, just like they died in Sokovia, and in New York, and practically whenever we get called into battle someone dies!”

Peter remembered the news reports from last month, stories of the Avengers on a mission of sorts in Nigeria. Only it all went wrong, and scores of civilians had been killed when a building blew up. He also knew of those who were killed during the battle in Sokovia, and personally remembered the fear and havoc caused by Loki’s attack on New York. 

“We can’t save everyone, Tony. You knew that when you created Iron Man.”

“You wanna know why that Charles Spencer kid stuck in my mind so much hmm?”

“Tony his death isn’t on your hands.”

“What if that had been Peter, Steve?” Tony whispered.

Steve inhaled deeply, but otherwise remained quiet as Peter took a step closer, trying to make out the rest of the conversation.

“What if someone else, operating under no sense of responsibility, came in, _killed our son_ , and then left, believing they should be applauded for their efforts? Peter, with so much of his life ahead of him. Would it really take something like that to make y-”

“-Sir-” F.R.I.D.A.Y. attempted to warn Tony.

“Not now F.R.I.D.A.Y., come on.”

“I’m afraid, Master Parker is within hearing range.”

Both Tony and Steve straightened up at the announcement, looking towards the hallway where Peter was currently hiding. Peter glared up at the ceiling as if F.R.I.D.A.Y. would be able to sense his feelings of betrayal, before stepping into the kitchen. The first thing that Peter noticed was the fact that they were both sitting at the complete opposite ends of the table, and there lay two thick booklets, heavily dog-eared and bookmarked. They also seemed to be avoiding so much as looking at each other. If it were any other time, Peter would have found the whole thing quite amusing. The solemn looks on their faces and the lack of hugs were indications enough that such an action wouldn’t be appreciated. 

“Hey, dad, pops”, Peter tried lamely as he entered the room.

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop like that Pete”, his pops chided him.

From the corner of his eye, he made out his dad rolling his eyes, but he was thankful that he managed to keep his mouth shut and not annoy pops any more than it appeared he already had. 

“Sorry”, he managed, his cheeks blossoming with red.

“Where ya been anyway, kid. It’s almost 7:30, which is kinda late, even for you”, his dad pointed out.

“Uh…”

“Ooh, what’s her name?”

“Tony!”

“Come on, Steve. You’ve had years to thaw out, this isn’t the forties anymore. Seriously though kid, was she hot?”

Peter didn’t miss the slightly hurt look in his pops eyes but decided not to dwell on it. Dad and pop fought all the time, but ultimately, they would make up, and everything would be right again. He just needed to give them some time alone.

“I was actually just with Ned, but I’m gonna head to my room now. Got heaps of homework to do.”

“Peter, what about dinner?”

“Uh…I already ate at Ned’s, so I’m actually really full. See you guys in the morning.”

With that, Peter rushed out of the kitchen and towards his own room, almost tripping over a stool in the process.

* * *

Peter laid up in bed that night, turning over the events of the afternoon in his mind. The fight between his dads didn’t seem too dissimilar to their regular arguments, except they were still fighting now, and even with his head buried under the covers, like he’d tried earlier, he could still hear their angry voices echoing from their room now, rather than the kitchen. 

He still hadn’t figured out what they were fighting over, but all the other Avengers were mentioned, so he figured it had something to do with them as well. He wished they wouldn’t exclude him from all the Avenger talk and excitement that went on all the time now, especially since he definitely heard his name when he came home earlier, but his parents believed he was too young and innocent to understand the magnitude of what they did. He told himself that this was the reason for not telling his parents about him being Spider-Man. He knew they would never approve, despite him being 14, and totally ready to take on all the villains New York had to offer. For now, though, it would stay his little secret.

* * *

Peter fought his way through the tightly packed bodies in the school hallway, twisting and turning in order to get to his locker before the bell rang. He’d already been late to class this week, and he knew that his dads didn’t need the extra stress right now. It was a struggle to get up for school this morning, knowing that by the time he’d finally managed to fall asleep, around 2 am, his parents were still arguing down the hall. He really didn’t feel like coming to school today, more so than usual, but he knew that his dads had a much greater chance of making up if he wasn’t around. That, and he couldn’t really afford to have his attendance lowered any further. 

After a few more very long and uncomfortable moments, Peter finally emerged in front of his locker and began to load some of his textbooks into his bag. He had only started using the locker after being bitten a few months ago, needing his bag light, so it would be easier to hide and web when he needed. It was about the third one he’d been through in as many months, but his dads were pretty cool when one of the few things he asked them for was a new bag every now and then. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a hand roughly shoving him against the locker. Pain erupted from his midsection, his ribs still tender, despite his advanced healing capabilities. Maybe he’d actually broken them this time.

“Hey Penis, watch where you’re going next time!”

Peter turned around, only to see Flash Thompson disappearing into the crowd at the other end of the hallway. Despite not having any clear reason, Flash had decided that he absolutely despised Peter, and made it his personal duty to make Peter’s life at Midtown Tech a living hell.

“Seriously, he is such a loser.”

Peter smiled at the sight of his only friend, Ned, who appeared beside him suddenly. 

“Whatever, we shouldn’t be giving him any more time than he already demands.”

Ned hummed his agreement, readjusting his bag strap on his shoulder.

“So are you excited about your make-up parent/teacher interview tonight? It kinda sucks how it has to be with Principal Morita though.”

 _Shit._ Peter had entirely forgotten about the meeting his parents had with the principal tonight. All the other students had their meetings two weeks ago, but since only the principal had signed an NDA on his and his dads’ identity, Peter had to have his meetings, alone, only him and his parents. His dads had set the date over a month ago, promising that they would have the date clear to chat with his principal, so he could only hope that they’d resolved their issues, or could at least pretend they had.

“Uh…yeah. That should be fun. They haven’t really had the chance to be involved with my schoolwork lately, so this might be a chance for them to do that.”

Ned frowned at the possibility of a meeting with the principal ever being classified as fun but nodded anyway. What Peter had said about them not being involved with his schoolwork was true, so a little part of him was excited at the prospect of his dads finding out about how he’d been going. He’d been trying really hard this past year and it had reflected in his grades. 

“Anyway, you should come over sometime this week. I’ve just got my hands on the new Avengers video game, which looks totally awesome.”

Peter didn’t dare to tell Ned that he’d got the game months ago, as part of an experimental target audience thing. He didn’t really get it, but he knew his dads and the rest of the Avengers owned the rights to most of their own merchandise, so a lot of it had to go through them first. He couldn’t even count the number of light-up gauntlets and Lego sets he’d been given over the years. 

The bell rang before he really got a chance to respond, so he hastily shoved the rest of the books into his bag. As he was shutting his locker, ready to rush off to his next class, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled out his Stark phone – the model from a couple of years ago, much to his dad’s disdain, to maintain his anonymity – and pulled up the latest message, one from his dad.

 _Your father and I are headed to London for a few days. Happy will pick you up from school today._  
_Love,_  
_Dad._

Peter’s lips pulled down on the side, a small resemblance of a frown, as he realised this meant his dads weren’t going to be able to make the meeting with Principal Morita tonight. Now, Peter would have to stop by his office at lunch and let him know. It also kind of angered him though, how his parents were, seemingly, so indifferent about missing another one of his school events, something that actually meant something to him. Not for the first time, he cursed the universe for the jobs his parents had, and how they continuously took them away from him. Sighing, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and began running towards his classroom.

* * *

“Hey, Happy”

Peter slid into the front seat of the Audi, careful not to scuff the dashboard with his bag as he placed it at his feet. Happy had kind of been a step-in father for him whenever his parents went away, which again, was way too often. He didn’t use to mind it so much as a kid, but the more frequent and lengthy the trips got, the more resentful he felt towards the world for needing his parents more than he needed them. It also sucked, because his superhero/vigilante routine was based off sneaking off after school or late at night, but since Happy was so driven by the need to make sure things were secure, he was constantly checking in on him. Looks like he’d be hanging up the webs for a few days then, maybe let his ribs heal up before he goes too hard on them. 

“Hey, Squirt. Sorry about the short notice on this one.”

Happy had recently begun to catch on to Peter’s feelings about his dads and their jobs. It wouldn’t have been that hard to notice though, Peter had a terrible grip on his emotions at the best of times.

“Nope, all good. Official Avengers business, right?”

“Something like that…”, Happy shook his head and put the car in drive.

* * *

Peter was sitting at home when it happened. It was a Saturday and he’d been watching reruns of The Simpsons all day when the program was interrupted by a breaking news report. The U.N. meeting in Vienna had been bombed. People had died, and James Buchanan Barnes was the suspect. He had felt an immense relief wash over him when he caught sight of Natasha in one of the panning shots of the damage, knowing that she was safe and seemingly unharmed in the explosion. 

He’d learnt all about the accords from the news reports over the days before, about how they were aimed at ensuring accountability and responsibility when it came to the actions of the Avengers and other enhanced individuals. He figured that this was most likely what his parents had been fighting over the other day. The only reason he wasn’t jumping out of his seat in a panic, was because he knew that his dads were in London, and they hadn’t been named among the dead or wounded. He hadn’t been able to speak to either of them since they left abruptly, and with this now going on, he knew it would be even longer before he’d get to see either of them again. 

He'd also heard about Barnes, overhearing another one of his parents’ arguments one night a while back. He knew that his pops had gone against his dad’s wishes and pursued his friend ‘Bucky’ after discovering he’d been kidnapped and brainwashed by Hydra all those years ago. And, whilst he appreciated his father’s loyalty and devotion to his friend, he had held it against him for so long after seeing the way it tore his dad apart, hearing him weeping alone in their room at night, calling out for Steve even though he wouldn’t be able to hear him. That was the worst it had ever gotten between his dads. It took them a while, but they managed to get back their trust in each other and pull through. He knew that the re-emergence of Barnes would only strain their relationship, and he still wasn’t sure if they’d made up from earlier. Peter wondered if it was possible to hate a guy you’d never met.

* * *

Peter had never seen Happy as frantic as he was at that moment. He was currently on the phone to some agent in Europe, trying to learn all he could about the updates on the hunt for James Barnes. Apparently, he’d been spotted in Bucharest and they were sending a team in to take him down. Peter had felt a small sense of satisfaction in hearing that, thinking that it could only mean his dads were that much closer to being home. It had been three days since the incident in Vienna, and Peter had started getting anxious. 

Other than the obvious cleanup and declaration of the final death toll, there hadn’t been too many developments in the hunt for Barnes. A sighting was the closest they had come, and Peter knew that the good guys were going to take any chance they could to apprehend him.

Peter’s phone vibrated on the couch beside him, his pops’ name appearing on the screen. Peter gave Happy a quick glance, before slinking off to his room and answering the phone quietly.

“Pops?”

“Yeah Peter, it’s me…”

“Uh well…what’s going on? I heard about the incident in Vienna, but apparently, they’re about to catch the guy. That means you and dad will be home, soon right? ‘Cause you guys missed my interv-”

“-Peter…I don’t have a lot of time right now. I just need you to know that I love you, yeah? And I mean that. No matter what anyone says or whatever happens, nothing is going to take that away.”

“Hey, Pops, is everything alright? Why does it sound like something bad is about to happen?”

“Peter...I just need you to remember that.”

Peter could just sense in his voice that something was going on. He sounded as if he was on a busy street, but Peter could any catch small chunks of an unfamiliar language in the background. His pops’ voice was all shaky, and Peter knew that it sounded as if he didn’t believe he would be seeing Peter again anytime soon. 

“No, Pops. I’m asking you, as your son, to _not_ do anything stupid. I need you to just come home with dad, and then everything will be fine. We can be a big, happy family with the rest of the Avengers, right?”

Peter wasn’t sure if he could sound anymore desperate as he packed all of his emotion into his pleas for his pops to stay safe. He really wasn’t sure how he, and dad, were going to cope if anything were to happen to Steve. 

“I’m sorry Peter.”

* * *

It was less than two hours later when a new headline flashed up on the television screen. 

_‘Captain America Goes Rogue’_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter really didn’t want to be angry at his dad too, but it was just so difficult not to be.

_“Uh, hey dad it’s me. Peter. Your son. Anyway…I was just wondering how things were going over there. I mean, I know your super busy, saving the world and everything, but I haven’t heard from you for a while now. I know you told me not to worry about you – but dad, I…I miss you. Please call me back when you get the chance, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes. I’m really struggling with of my algebra homework, and I know I could just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y., but she doesn’t explain it like you do. You make it really easy for m-_

Peter sighed as he was cut off by the loud beep, his message cut short again. He’d lost count of the number of voicemails he’d left on his dad’s cell phone in the past two days, but still, he’d heard nothing back. 

Peter pulled his bottom lip through his teeth and began to worry the already raw skin of his lip. It wasn’t long after seeing that first headline appeared on his television screen, that they’d found out Captain America had escaped from custody with Barnes, and now they had run off together. Peter ground his teeth together at the thought of his pops leaving his dad yet again. He understood the whole going after your best friend thing, he’d do all that he could to save Ned from any kind of threat, but it was pretty obvious, given the evidence, that Barnes had intentionally attacked the UN meeting, and killed twelve people. Peter couldn’t find any justification for his pops’ actions. He’d tried. He really had. Dad had always gone on about how Peter had inherited Steve’s moral compass, but in this situation, Peter saw no morality in the actions of his father.

Peter blinked quickly, trying to stop the angry tears from falling down his cheeks. He’d cried enough over the past two days and really didn’t think he had it in him to do it again. Peter had absolutely no way of truly knowing how his dad faring, despite Happy’s assurances that he was alright. 

Oh yeah, despite the fact that he had no time for Peter, Tony had been on the phone with Happy several times since Saturday, updating him on everything and sorting out Happy’s departure. He’d walked in on Happy on the phone twice now, but every time he tried to get in a few words Happy, albeit reluctantly, would shoo him out of whatever room he was in and promptly lock the door. Peter really didn’t want to be angry at his dad too, but it was just so difficult not to be. 

In the 14 years since Steve and Tony adopted him, Peter had never felt more neglected than he did right now. One of his parents had become an international fugitive almost overnight, whilst the other was on the other side of the world chasing him down and couldn’t spare a second to talk to Peter. 

Looking around his bedroom quickly, Peter weighed up his chance of going on patrol tonight. Happy had gone out for the night, trying to organise everything for his flight over to Germany, where he’d be joining Tony in the search for his pops. Happy had broken the news to him a little earlier in the evening when he’d left. He’d also explained to him that everyone else who could fill in as a possible babysitter was over with his dad as well, meaning that Peter would be left alone in the tower until things were sorted out. Of course, he wouldn’t really be alone, with F.R.I.D.A.Y. keeping an eye on him and sending updates straight to Happy’s phone. Still, that meant that Peter wouldn’t have anyone physically watching over him for an indefinite period of time. He’d never been left alone like that before. Pops had always been so overly protective that he’d made sure there was _always_ someone there to watch him, even when both he and Tony had insisted it was pointless. That only ever happened when his dads would be gone for less than a day though, so the thought of spending a night alone was more than slightly petrifying for Peter.

Fiddling with his phone in his hands, Peter slowly got off his bed and made his way out into the corridor, towards the elevator. The doors opened up to his desired floor, and despite the fact that he was utterly alone, he still made sure to look either way before heading cautiously into his dad’s lab. 

Peter often came down here to work on small projects or assist his dad with bigger ones. Even so, the lab never ceased to amaze him. Several workbenches were scattered around the perimeter of the room, each bench occupied with some half-finished modification Tony was making to his tech. The middle of the room was currently bare but had recently been used to test a new Iron Man suit. Peter had a small workshop area in one of the corners of the lap, with finger-print encrypted drawers where he kept web-shooter prototypes and web fluid. He’d created the locks himself, so there was no way that his dad could get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to override them. He also had decoy tech in there, that would make his Spider-Man equipment seem insignificant.

What Peter was really looking for though, was tucked away in a large glass cabinet on the other side of the room. He could see the flickering green lights of the server from here, and a small knot formed in his stomach. He’d never really gone behind his dad’s back like this before – other than the whole Spider-Man thing – but he knew that if he wanted to go on any sort of patrol in the coming days, that making some minor adjustments to F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s coding would be required. 

When he’d first decided to use his abilities to go out and help people, Peter had gotten Ned on the phone, and let him lead the way through a series of instructions used to edit F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s monitoring of Peter. His dads had always been hypervigilant when it came to his safety, them being superheroes did paint a rather large target on their backs, so they’d programmed the A.I. to alert them whenever Peter left the building without them knowing. It had been super annoying when he’d had to come up with a lie when they’d caught him on his first attempt, sneaking out towards the elevator. The cover story of a house party was enough for pops to ground him for a month, but that was a whole lot better than the alternative. 

Now though, Peter had remembered the main steps needed to edit the updated security measures regarding his whereabouts. Judging by the code he was currently reading, F.R.I.D.A.Y. was required to send a text message to Happy whenever he left the house for anything other than school, whenever someone other than Peter entered any of their floors, and whenever Peter didn’t arrive home before curfew. The last one wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a formalisation of his 7 pm curfew that already existed. Flexing his fingers anxiously, Peter quickly made the necessary requirements to the coding and dashed out of the room as quickly as possible. He’d also told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to wipe all visual, audio, and any other type of memory or record of his actions and hurried back to the elevator.

* * *

_The Next Day_

Peter had no idea where he was going, but he just kept launching his webs at each new building, swinging through the dark streets of Midtown. His mind was so loud and so unsettled, Peter felt he was five minutes away from a total mental breakdown. Despite having been Spider-Man for so many months now, Peter’s hands shook as he swung, with anxiety that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Even though he had tried his hardest to avoid any gossip surrounding the situation involving his dads, what he’d heard at school today had almost caused him to snap.

The blatant gossip surrounding the possibility of Steve being a secret agent of Hydra had him rolling his eyes, but then the comments had taken a more personal turn. He’d overheard conversations in his Spanish class between the girls behind him, and it took everything he had to stop himself from turning around and giving them a piece of his mind. They’d been discussing the possibility of Steve having an affair with Barnes and that was what had created the disagreement between Tony and Steve over the accords. They thought that a divorce between the two was only a matter of time. 

Thinking back on it now, Peter contemplated the fact that the only reason he’d been so sensitive to the gossip was that a small part of him feared it could be true. Maybe not the whole affair part, because pops never had the treachery within him for anything like that, but Peter had seen the way that his dad broke down during the whole ‘Winter Soldier’ fiasco. The thought of Steve choosing Bucky over him, over both of them, would be enough to shatter Tony.

Peter hadn’t given it much consideration, but he was now beginning to contemplate the possibility that he might never see his pops again. He might never get the chance to have him worrying about him missing curfew, or him comforting him whenever his nightmares got too much. Dad had never been overly affectionate, struggling to put his emotions into words. That was alright though, Peter knew that he had his own ways of showing his love. Sometimes, however, Peter needed the comfort of his pops, and the thought of never having that again made Peter’s heart drop. He cursed himself for being so young and incapable of helping out or try to get his dad and pops to come to an understanding. 

A shrill scream from an alleyway underneath him ripped Peter from his thoughts, and he swiftly lowered himself down into the lane, before severing the web he was attached to. Like a switch had been flipped, Peter landed in his crouched pose as his Spider-Man persona took over.

Before him, a young woman was being accosted by two large, darkly dressed men. One of them had her restrained against the rough bricks of the side of a building, whilst the other was making a grab for a purse. Spider-Man quickly assessed the situation, trying to decide the best method of attack. 

“Another mugging, in a dark alleyway, late at night? God you criminals are _so_ unoriginal.”

The two men swivelled around, the larger of the two still keeping his forearm pressed firmly against the girl’s throat. A small smirk graced Peter’s face as he saw how dumbfounded both of them were. He figured these were your usual, delinquent thieves, without any idea of how to operate under unknown circumstances. Peter encountered guys like this all the time. After all, this was New York, and he had made himself somewhat of a vigilante. 

The one who wasn’t preoccupied with half strangling someone stepped forward, attempting to slyly remove a knife from the back of his waistband. Even without his enhanced senses, the brief glimmer of a distant streetlight reflecting off the blade gave away his intentions. The hairs on the back of his neck and down his arms stood on end at the sight of the weapon.

“Spider-Boy.”

Peter frowned at the thief’s greeting. Yeah, he was young, but he was hoping that it didn’t come across too much in his work. He didn’t think that the criminals were going to take him all that seriously if they knew he had only just started high school. Taking care to lower his voice, Peter puffed his chest. 

“Actually, Spider-Boy was busy tonight, sorry to disappoint. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

The man with the knife growled at him, before diving forward and slashing the knife through the air. It wasn’t the most coordinated offensive, allowing Peter to simply duck and sweep the man’s legs out from underneath him with a well-placed kick. The guy landed on the ground with a grunt, the knife clattering to the ground beside him. Peter jumped forwards, grabbing the weapon and throwing it down the other end of the alley. 

Turning back to the man who was now almost on his feet, Peter shot a web out, catching him around the midsection and effectively gluing him down to the ground. 

“What the hell?” The man grunted angrily.

Peter had been so focused on the first robber, he’d failed to notice that the other one had released the woman from his hold and crept down the other end of the alley. The only sign that something was wrong came in the form of his tingling spider-sense. Not a moment later a sharp, hot pain blossomed in his side, before spreading across towards his navel. He turned his head and saw robber no. 2 grinning at him maliciously. In his hand was the knife that Peter had thrown away earlier, and he cursed himself for not doing something smarter with it. Acting before shock could set in, Peter thrust his hand up into the man’s chin, sending him a foot up in the air. Peter launched web from both of his shooters, attaching him to the grimy brick wall behind him. 

Normally Peter would call the police and let them come collect the thieves, however, the damp patch on his costume was spreading rapidly, and he couldn’t afford the time. He had yet to develop his suit beyond a basic spandex fabric, so it had provided him next to no protection from the blade. Peter glanced at the two of them and made sure the woman was gone, before climbing up the wall and onto the roof of the building. 

Exhausted and out of breath, Peter collapsed onto the concrete. The cool surface felt amazing against the heat of his skin, causing Peter to almost nuzzle his cheek against it. Maybe, if he wasn’t bleeding out, he would have spent the time revelling in the feeling. Instead, Peter cautiously hauled himself up to a sitting position and pulled aside the fabric of his suit. 

Thankfully, despite the amount of blood that had poured out of it, the wound didn’t seem to have nicked anything important. It was a lot deeper on his left side, shallowing in depth as it moved across his stomach. Already, it had started to coagulate, the ruby red liquid coming to a slow. Peter hadn’t really been injured whilst on patrol, so the experience of it was making him quite lightheaded. It was still quite early, only just reaching dusk, but Peter knew that even with his enhanced healing abilities, he wouldn’t be able to continue his patrol tonight.

His heart ached a little at the realisation, his mind running through the possible crimes and injustices that could be committed without him there to stop them. He knew though, that he would hardly be able to list his left arm, let alone stop any petty crime. In fact, he’d probably only serve to make situations worse in his weakened state. 

Sighing in frustration, Peter hobbled to his feet and crawled down the opposite side of the building. Web-slinging was definitely out of the question. Though the wound had begun to clot, the amount of stretching and sudden movements required when swinging between the buildings would undoubtedly reopen the wound.

Instead, Peter gently lowered himself off the side of the building and into an alleyway adjacent to the one he was just in. With his enhanced hearing, he could still make out the grunts and curses off the thieves. The webs would dissolve in a few hours, but there was no way Peter had intended to stick around that long. 

Happy was out again, planning on heading out tomorrow, but would be back to have dinner with Peter before he left. That meant he only had around 45 minutes before he turned up, and now with having to walk to the Tower, Peter knew he’d be cutting it fine. 

Shaking his head, Peter took a deep breath and began the long walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback on the last chapter x. This one was a little bit shorter, unfortunately. Let me know what you think, comments and kudos are _always_ appreciated
> 
> As for my other fic, the Loki/Peter one, I _am_ still committed to finishing it, yet I'm just struggling to put my ideas into words for it. Thanks for those holding out.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had only been a matter of time, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys, I just saw 'Infinity War' at an advanced screening and I'm literally still shaking with shock. The movie is so intense the whole way through, but the ending will actually leave you SHOOK. I'm talking too shocked to even contemplate things. I want to be emotional about it, but I still can't wrap my head around it. I'm now going to be left super stressed for the next year until the next one comes out. So many things are left unanswered. I'm seeing it again in less than 10 hours, so hopefully, by then, I'll have gotten my shit together. I definitely recommend it though, so go see it ASAP!

Peter groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes at the sudden, overwhelming sunlight that hit him. He really should be used to this by now, with it being one of his dads’ favourite methods of waking him up for school. The familiarity of the situation had him smiling a little.

“Yeah Pops, I’m up!” He moaned tiredly.

“Sorry Kid, just me. You’ve got school in an hour, so you should be getting up now. I’m not heading out until later this afternoon, so I’ll probably see you then, but I thought I’d catch some breakfast with you and see you off.”

Hearing Happy’s voice, Peter felt his heart drop.

Of course, it wouldn’t be his pops. Of course, it wouldn’t be his dad either. They were both currently in Europe. One of them was also an international outlaw, so there was no way that he could be here doing something as menial as waking Peter up for school. 

“Uh…thanks, Happy. I’ll be out for breakfast in 10.”

Peter watched Happy nod his head solemnly before walking out of the room. 

As soon as the door was pulled to, Peter ripped his covers off and hastily pulled up his shirt. He’d done a quick clean up job when he got home last night, rinsing out the almost dry wound, and applying some antiseptic. The lack of pain in his movements was probably a good sign, allowing him full extension without so much as wincing. 

Looking at the skin where the wound was, all that greeted Peter was an angry red scar. It ran the whole length that the knife had, and as Peter prodded at it roughly, it started to itch madly. Peter cursed himself for being stupid enough to poke at the injury like that.

He sighed heavily, really not in the mood to go to school today. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to put up with even more gossip today. On top of that, Flash would be his normal, unpleasant, self. That wasn’t something Peter was ready to deal with. He struggled to put up with him on a good day, but with everything else going on right now…

Swinging his legs off the bed, he heaved himself onto the floor and towards his wardrobe.

* * *

“So, this really shouldn’t take that long. Everyone’s going over there and as soon as it’s settled your dad will be back here with you.”

Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Basically, what Happy was telling him was that everyone else was able to go over to get this thing sorted, but Peter was left completely in the dark. Everyone was acting as if it _wasn’t_ his dads that were in the midst of it. Instead, they treated him like he was some major convenience, or maybe an afterthought at best. 

He stared angrily at his scrambled eggs, fighting away the tears in his eyes as best he could. He couldn’t be demanding any attention now. He was just being selfish by feeling so angry at his dads. It wasn’t like they were intentionally ignoring him, they just had higher priorities than him right now, and he understood that. It still hurt though, and Peter couldn’t stop the words falling from his lips.

“Maybe I’d have a better idea of when that would be if he could actually be bothered calling me. Or even shooting me a text.”

Happy’s gaze sharpened. “I know this isn’t ideal kid, but I also know that your dad is doing everything he can to get back to you.”

“But there’s gotta be something I can do to help. I could come with y-“

“No, Peter. The best thing you can do to help is to just stay here and refrain from doing anything that’s going to stress your dad out any more. He wouldn’t be able to take that Pete.”

Red blossomed onto Peter’s cheeks as he stabbed at his breakfast. Guilt formed in the pit of his stomach. He had to be better for his dad. He couldn’t keep screwing up and demanding attention like he normally did.

* * *

Yet somehow, that’s exactly what he managed to do.

To be fair, he hadn’t started out the day thinking he was going to break Flash’s nose. He knew that he would never have been able to take his abuse today, but running away from confrontation, what he intended to do, was practically the opposite of punching someone in the face, which is what he’d actually done.

Flash had been going on, all day, about how the Avengers had it coming with all the shit that happened with Ultron. Apparently Flash actually cared about those who died in Sokovia, and those who were otherwise impacted by the debacle. That group wouldn’t include him, despite the soul-crushing terror he’d experienced as a tween, thinking that his dads were going to die, and there’d be no one left to take care of him. That wasn’t too dissimilar to how he felt now, though. 

Anyway, it all came to a head when Flash claimed that his dad was a raging alcoholic, and that his pops was totally justified in having an affair with Barnes. Everything going on with his dads had put so much weight on him, whether they knew it or not, and he snapped. 

It had only been a matter of time, really. 

He’d also managed to pull the punch at the last second, meaning that Flash was nurturing a broken nose, rather than his head with a hole through it. It didn’t make him feel any better though. Knowing that he had so much strength, physically, and that he’d used that against someone for no justifiable reason made even angrier with himself. 

So now, he was stuck in a room full of delinquents, serving his first afternoon of two weeks’ worth of detention. Principal Morita had informed him that whilst he’d been unable to reach either of his dads, he had reached his guardian, Happy, and that there would need to be a meeting over any further disciplinary measures. All though it was completely inappropriate, Peter was somewhat glad that he wasn’t the only one his dad was ignoring. Happy knowing though, wasn’t good. He was due to leave New York in less than 3 hours, and now Peter had just gone and made his life that much more difficult. The thought made Peter sink even further into his chair. 

“So…you got detention.”

Peter’s head snapped up so quickly that if he didn’t have his abilities, he might’ve just broken his neck. He could recognize that voice anywhere. All of his anger washed away, and he was filled with an immediate sense of relief. Pops was here, he was back and everything was going to be ok now. 

He looked at the doorway of the room, trying to see where his pops could be.

“You screwed up.”

Peter’s eyes shifted towards the sound, finally catching sight of the television plugged in at the front of the room. There, on the screens was a pre-recorded video of his pops in full Captain-America regalia, presenting a poorly acted, ‘educational’ video.

Peter felt himself deflate. All the hope that had risen up inside him buried itself back into his stomach. That was the second time today, that he’d thought his pops had magically turned up. He’d thought for a moment, that family had finally won out, and that pops valued him over whatever it was he was pursuing now. 

Everyone else seemed to be focusing on their own things, be it books, phones, or sketchbooks, like the girl beside him. Coach Wilson was at the front of the room, clicking lazily as he stared at his computer screen. He didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to what was going on.  
“You know what you did was wrong.”

The longer Peter sat there, the more his eyes watered, and the tighter his fists clenched. With his emotions as haywire as they were now, sitting in this room, listening to his pops’ voice, was only driving him closer to insanity.

Shaking his head, Peter reached down to grab his backpack off the floor. Giving the room one last sweep, Peter caught the eyes of the girl next to him. She stared back intently, her hand still sketching on the pad before her. He frowned at her before she gave him a small smile and held up the book. 

On the paper before him, was a rushed pencil sketch of him in his state of distress, accentuating his frown and his slouch. It wasn’t the best drawing he’d ever seen, and he really wasn’t in the mood to engage her in any kind of conversation.

Instead, Peter just let his frown drop into a glare and stood up quietly. Avoiding the scattered tables and chairs, he stormed his way out of the classroom, and into the empty hallway. Ignoring Coach Wilson’s calls from behind him, Peter ducked out the back entrance, and, making sure no one was looking, jumped the fence, heading towards the closest alleyway to suit up.

* * *

Peter spent around an hour just swinging angrily around the city. He shot out every web with angry conviction he didn’t know he possessed. A few people had called out to him in greeting, but he’d been fortunate enough to not run into any crimes yet. 

He hadn’t anticipated going out this afternoon, as Spider-Man at least. He truly had intended to give himself a couple of days rest, letting his wound heal, before slinging any more webs. He didn’t realise how badly he was going to need this outlet after the horrible day he’d had so far. It was likely to only get worse. With neither of his dads to talk to, and Happy heading out tonight, Peter would only have F.R.I.D.A.Y. to talk to. 

A few buildings ahead of him, Peter noticed the same tower that he’d perched himself on to watch the sunset the other night. 

_The night where everything had turned to shit._

Trying to shake that thought from his mind, Peter quickly swung up onto the rooftop and plonked himself onto the edge of the building. He’d intentionally picked the side where he could see the Tower, so he could feel the little bit of warmth that came whenever viewing him home. 

How much of a home was it though? Now that everyone had vacated it, and Peter was just left alone, there wasn’t anyone there that made it _feel_ like a home anymore. Even the past few days, when Happy was there with him, it had been impossible to ignore just how quiet the place was. His voice sounded too loud whenever he used it, and his footsteps caused noisy echoes that no-one was around to complain about.

Sighing in resignation, Peter reached up to take his mask off. The whole situation was rapidly becoming overwhelming, and Peter found himself needing all the oxygen he could get. His fingers gripped the neck of his mask, pulling it away from his kid. 

“Not contemplating jumping are you kid?”

Peter’s heart almost stopped as he ripped his fingers away from his throat and turned towards his voice. Similar to in detention, Peter knew he’d recognise this voice in any situation, but his heart wasn’t ready to be let down again. He had to be sure. 

Once he’d turned around fully, a gasp forced itself through his lips. Before him stood Iron-Man in all his red and gold glory. He was still hovering above the concrete rooftop, but once he had Peter’s full attention, he powered down his thrusters and landed with a soft clank. 

“D…Iron Man?”

“I mean we all have our moments, look at me poster-boy for mental health issues, but there’s always something worth sticking around for.”

Peter mulled those words over in his head, trying to decipher what he meant. He knew his dad had it bad, even as a kid, but he never knew anything like this had happened. Again, Tony had never been great at expressing emotions. Peter lowered his voice to try and maintain his anonymity, rather than defend his manhood.

“Uh, no…not thinking about jumping. Just giving myself a breather.”

Still, sitting on the ledge, Peter made to get up, but his dad just waved him back down. Instead, the man came over and took a seat on the ledge beside him. The helmet came up with a metallic hiss, revealing a too-tired Tony. 

The man had large, dark circles under his eyes (more so than usual), dishevelled hair, and the now, long growth of stubble along his cheeks. The man hardly resembled the dad Peter remembered from less than a week ago. The whole situation was obviously taking its toll. The last time Peter had seen his dad anywhere near this bad, was during the winter-soldier period. 

“I can appreciate that. God, I wish I could just sit down for ten minutes, and not have to worry about a thing…”

“Well, why don’t you?”

The incredulous look on Tony’s face was to be expected, really. Peter knew his dad hardly took time for himself, and that there was no way that he would be resting whilst his husband was out there with an unstable murderer. 

“The world is kind of depending on me right now kid. I can’t afford to take a break.”

Peter nodded his head but decided that Tony calling him kid made him feel uncomfortable. It put his dad a little too close to knowing the truth of his identity, and judging by the current conversation, he still hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

“I’m not a kid.”

Tony let out a humourless laugh. 

“What are you, like 19? My A.I. couldn’t get a read on you, which is odd since _I_ created it. Anyway, you’ve probably just finished high-school, so you’re still going to be a kid for a little while yet.”

“18 actually,” Peter lied. That was closer to his real age and might excuse any immaturity he might give off. It was also easy enough to remember, and Peter knew that in order for him to keep up a lie it would have to be simple.

“Anyway, I had my A.I. track you down as soon as she caught you on CCTV.”

Peter could only hope that he’d been far enough away from his school when he’d first been caught. Or at least far enough away from the laneway where he’d gotten changed. It was going to look way too suspicious if a camera had caught Peter walking into the street and then Spider-Man leaving two minutes later. 

Turning to look at his dad, Peter frowned at the pained look on his face. All he wanted to do was reach and give him a hug. He had missed him so much, and to have him so close yet so out of reach crushed him.

“W-Why would you need to do that?”

Tony’s eyes shifted to look at him and Peter had to suppress a shiver. It was if he was seeing under his mask.

“I’m gonna cut right to it. I need your help kid. There’s a situation in Germany that I need all the backup I can get. It might get a little bit violent, but I don’t think that it’ll get too out of hand.”

Peter couldn’t believe it. He was finally being offered an opportunity to go over and help sort things out. He was actually going to be able to have some level of input towards a resolution. Maybe now, as Spider-Man, he’d be allowed to help out even more with other Avengers issues.

“You mean like, I’ll be an Avenger?” Peter asked excitedly.

“Not yet, kid,” Tony chuckled. “Give it a couple of years though, and we’ll see.”

Peter didn’t think he’d grinned any bigger in his life.

“Well then yeah, if you need my help, I can definitely come and…offer…my services…,” Peter tried to sound more adult-like.

“Alright, well wheels up in 90 minutes. I’ll have my driver pick you up somewhere. Where best suits you?”

“Uh…,” Peter fed him Ned’s address, knowing that he’d be able to make it there easily within an hour.

“Sounds good. There’s no one I need to be calling right. No murderous guardian is going to come after me for letting you join us right?”

Peter grimaced. Thank God for the mask.

“Uh…no…I’m 18. No one’s going to be chasing you down, at least no guardian of mine.”

Tony nodded.

“Alright then. See you soon, kid. I’ll bring your upgrade.”

With that, the facemask slammed back over Tony’s face, and the man threw himself off the edge of the building. Peter’s heart fell with him, before steadying as he watched the man blast himself back up and into the sky, towards the Tower. Peter quickly got up, needing to get home so he could see him before he left. He too threw himself off but caught himself on a string of web attached to the building in front of him.

The whole time he was swinging home though, all Peter could think was _'upgrade'?_.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was almost a relief to let go of Peter Parker for a while.

Peter tapped his fingers nervously against his leg as the elevator ascended the Tower. Thankfully no one had stolen his backpack or ID card this time, meaning he was able to head straight to the lift and would be able to spend a few more moments with his dad. 

The doors opened up to the top level, but instead of seeing his dad, Peter caught sight of a very unhappy looking Happy. He grimaced, having totally forgotten about the whole punching Flash thing. 

“Nice job laying low Peter. I haven’t even left yet, and you go around punching up kids at school. Then, I get a call saying you’ve stormed out of detention. God, your dad can’t take this Peter. His face when I told him-”

“He’s here?” Peter asked excitedly. Yeah, he was playing dumb, already knowing that his dad was in America, after the whole conversation on the rooftop. Still, though, he hadn’t been able to give him a hug and revel in the comfort that was family, as Spider-Man. He’d been confined to clipped sentences in a fake voice, with a mask over his face. He really wanted to see his dad as Peter, before the big confrontation that everyone was gearing up for. 

“No…he’s still back in Germany, he won’t be back until this whole thing is over, you know that. He video called me earl- Hey! Don’t change the subject.”

Peter frowned at that. Why was Happy lying about his dad being in Germany? Did he really not want to see him that bad? He’d seen his dad head back towards the tower after their conversation, and Peter had only arrived 10 minutes later. That meant that his dad had almost gone out of his way to avoid a confrontation with him. His heart physically hurt at the thought that his dad was trying his hardest _not_ to see him.

“This is about you, Peter. I know that you’re stressed out right now, but nothing can excuse this. Punching someone, God Peter. Come on. I really don’t think I need to be lecturing you on th-“

“-No Happy, you don’t need to be lecturing me. You’re not my dad, or my pops, yet all this shit falls to you. I know that dad is stressed, I know that. But what about me? Why is no one listening to me? I’m scared, not knowing if I’ll have a dad after all this. Pops is as good as gone, being a fugitive and all, but if this ends badly, then what happens to me?”

“Peter…”

“I’ll have _no one_. There’s only a handful of people that know I even _exist_. Sure, people know Peter Parker, but they don’t know I’m Iron Man and Captain America’s son. Dad has no family left and pops sure as hell doesn’t. Oh, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. can’t function as a legal guardian, though I’m sure you all wish she could. You all get to run around like you have no responsibilities and it’s as if I don’t exist anymore. Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have punched him, but maybe I’m just so scared that I’ll have no one to turn to, that I’ve lost all control of my emotions. Even now, no one is talking to me, and so I have no outlet. I have so much pent-up anger that I can’t keep down anymore.”

By now, thick, heavy tears were streaming down his face, showing no sign of stopping. His dad had gone out of his way to fly back to America, just to recruit Spider-Man. He had no desire to see Peter, even though it literally would have taken him fifteen minutes to stick around the Tower and see him. To let Peter know that _someone_ still cared about him. His fists clenched at his side, and Peter was really trying not to punch the wall beside him. 

All he wanted was to see his dad. Or his pops even, despite how angry he was with him. He wished he could rewind the past week and try and get them to an understanding before everything went wrong. When all that the accords were, was a stack of papers. Then maybe, none of this would have happened. If he’d spoken up that afternoon he’d first caught them fighting, when they fought into the night, and Peter just knew something was wrong. Why couldn’t he had just done _something_?

At least in going to Germany, he would be able to see and hear his dad, even if it wasn’t as his son. He wondered if it was possible to be jealous of yourself, because if so, he was absolutely envious of the fact that Spider-Man was going to be able to interact with his dad.

Happy opened his mouth to speak, to try and say something to make this better, but his ringtone cut him off before he got a word out. He gave Peter a sheepish look, before pulling out his phone. Happy’s reaction to the screen was enough to let Peter know who was calling without even having to ask.

“Hey, Boss…no I’ll be there in 20 to pick him up…yeah, I know…”

Peter just stood there awkwardly as the conversation went on. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks, and Happy just looked him over sadly.

“Hey Boss, do you think you’ve got a sec. I know that Peter really needs to talk to you right now.”

Peter felt hope rise in his chest. Maybe with Happy on his side, he’d finally get to speak to his dad and find out how he was going. 

“Oh? …No, I get it…I’ll let him know. Talk to you soon.”

Just as quickly as the hope had arrived, it left, and with it, any sort of emotional presence he had at the moment. He obviously _still_ didn’t have a moment to talk to his own son, and Peter just rolled his eyes at Happy’s apologetic look.

“Pe-”

“Whatever, Happy. Have a nice trip.” He called out in his deadpanned voice before slumping off to his bedroom.

Opening the door, he’d almost forgotten that he still had to suit up and head to the meeting point to be picked up by Happy. Whilst he was excited to finally get to be a part of what was going on, and of the solution to this mess, Peter still hated that the only reason this was the case, was that he was Spider-Man, not because he was Tony and Steve’s son. Apparently being a petty-crime stopping vigilante held more sway with the Avengers than being adopted by two of them.

* * *

Peter had to leave behind all of his anger and betrayal at the Tower. As soon as the mask was on, he was Spider-Man. And Spider-Man didn’t have superhero parents that refused to speak to him. So, when Happy picked him up from outside Ned’s place, Spider-Man was the excited, energetic web-slinger that he was on the streets. It was almost a relief to let go of Peter Parker for a while, and all the anxiety that came from being him. 

Now, Peter sat in the backseat of the Audi, his video-camera trained on the scenery that sped past his window. Despite the wealth of his dads, Peter had never had the opportunity to venture anywhere beyond the eastern coast of America. And he’d only been able to travel beyond New York on school trips. He’d never been taken overseas with his parents, so the whole idea of getting on a plane was as nerve-wracking as it was exciting.

“New York. Queens. It's a rough borough, but, hey, it's home,” He commentated in a deep, husky whisper. Obviously, Queens wasn’t his real home, but he was overly conscious of Happy, who was now glaring at him in the rear-view mirror. He wore large aviators and a crinkled suit, looking every bit the professional driver and security guard that he was to Tony Stark.

“Who are you talking to?”

Peter had been so caught up in Happy’s appearance in the mirror, that the sudden words made him jump. Happy’s tone was a little more gruff than usual, but Peter refused to dwell on that.

“Uh…no one…Just making a little video of the trip.”

“You know you can’t show it to anyone.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why are you narrating in that voice?”

Peter was silent for a moment.

“Because…it’s fun.”

Happy was still glaring at him from the driver’s seat, maybe even more intensely than before.

“What’s with the mask, kid?”

Peter knew that if he wanted to keep his identity a secret on the trip, that he’d have to wear his mask nearly the whole time. Maybe even while he slept. The thought was a little bit daunting, especially since Peter suffered from mild claustrophobia after being trapped in an elevator when he was 5. 

“Well, it’s a part of the suit…”

“Why are you wearing it now?” Happy rolled his eyes, as if Peter was being intentionally obtuse, which yeah, he kind of was.

“I’ve kinda got this whole alter-ego thing going on, so I don’t really wanna reveal who I am yet. Makes it easier when I don’t have guys chasing after me in my normal life.”

And it also meant that his dads didn’t have to know about his…extracurricular activities. 

“You know we wouldn’t tell anyone, right?”

Peter doubted that _very_ much. If Peter let it slip to Happy that he was actually Spider-Man, then the first thing he’d do would be to rat him out to his dad. As Happy himself said earlier, his dad didn’t need any extra stress at the moment.

“Yeah, but I’m just not up to that at the moment. Besides, this means I get to save the world without all the problems _real_ super-heroes have.”

Peter ground his teeth, wishing he hadn’t said that. He wasn’t meant to be Peter Parker right now and letting his anger towards his dads slip through his walls was an incredibly stupid thing to do. He quickly sought a distraction.

“So…why do they call you Happy?”

* * *

“This your first time on a private plane?”

“My first time on any plane.”

Happy just sighed and boarded the jet.

* * *

“This is you,” Happy pointed at the hotel room next to his own. 

They’d landed in Berlin less than an hour ago and made their way straight to the hotel. It was right in the middle of the city, and Peter hoped he’d get the chance to sneak off and do some sight-seeing at some stage. He’d just need to find a hiding spot where he could get changed and leave his bag.

“Oh, we’re neighbours?”

“We’re not roommates. Suit up.”

Peter frowned as Happy barged into his room, leaving him alone in the hallway. He was already suited up, he’d never even suited-down. Shaking his head, he pulled open the door to his room and his eyes bulged at how nice it was. Yeah, he probably lived in one of the nicest buildings in the world, but the view from the small balcony that hung off his room was awesome. 

The Brandenburg Gate was clearly visible, with hundreds milling around before it. He was kind of jealous of the tourists posing for photos in front of it, wishing that he was here for a nice holiday, rather than to fight his pops.

Turning back to his room, Peter tried to take it all in. The room was huge, way bigger than his one back at the Tower. Despite the ridiculous amount of money his dad had, Steve tried in every way he could to keep Peter humble. He had a relatively small room, and Steve had made Tony relieve all his house-staff once Peter had gotten to a more manageable age.

He made his way to the bathroom, filming himself in the mirror. He’d managed to stitch up the costume after being stabbed, but it still appeared so amateur when he thought about the heroes he’d be facing up against. 

“What are you wearing?”

Peter jumped, turning around to look at Happy, who was dressed the same as before.

“It’s my suit…”

“Where’s the case?”

“What case?”

Happy sighed dramatically and walked back into Peter's room.

Peter rushed to go after him, frowning as he opened a door to his right. The door opened up to a whole suite, complete with sofas and a coffee table. Peter’s jaw dropped at the extension of his room.

“What? I thought this was a closet. This is still my room?”

“Go,” Happy nodded towards the room.

“My room is way bigger than-“

“There.”

Peter looked over at the table and spotted a formidable looking silver case. 

“I found the case. I found the case,” Peter yelled as he hopped over to it.

Standing in front of it, Peter also spotted a small piece of paper by its side. This whole thing reminded him of superhero movies he’d seen as a kid – well as a younger kid – and he picked it up excitedly.

_A minor upgrade._  
_-TS_

Oh, this must be the upgrade that his dad had mentioned earlier. That made sense then.

He looked back over at the case and reached over to flip the latch. The case popped open, unfolding to reveal a totally re-imagined and improved Spider-Man costume. Peter gasped at the sight of the suit, his heart speeding up slightly. The fabric had a web-design and the mask contained actual lenses, rather than the re-purposed goggles he’d used in his own. 

“Put it on,” Happy ordered impatiently. 

Peter was too excited to take note of his urgency.

“What! This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Let’s go”

“But, yeah. Well, I don’t understand. Is this for me, Happy? Happy, wait. This is insane! Look at this thing, look at the eyes!” He turned back to the camera. “This is the greatest day of my life!”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

“So then you’re going to jump in, on my call, and do what you need to d- I’m sorry, really kid? Have you _got_ to wear the mask right now. We’re talking tactics, and I need to know that you’re getting this.”

“Hey, Mr Stark, I’m listening. I know what you need me to do.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak again.

“He won’t take it off, don’t waste your time,” Happy cut in.

Tony just rolled his eyes and continued on with laying down the plan. 

They were currently seated in a car, about 10 minutes out from an airport. War Machine, Black Widow and Vision were all there as well, listening in. Tony had also mentioned a ‘Black Panther’ that would be joining them at some point, but Peter had never heard of him before.

It was weird, sitting here, beside his dad and his extended family, yet they had no idea who he was. They had been quick to call out his age, but his dad had reassured him he was ready. A small seed of guilt formed in his stomach at the lies he’d fed his dad, but it was the only way he’d be able to help.

“Now, kid. The Captain isn’t necessarily a bad man, he’s just been led astray. You can’t let him get to you. You need to remember that good people can do bad things. He’s going to try and convince you not to fight him, that he’s not doing anything wrong, but you gotta stick to your guns.”. 

His dad sounded a little bit choked up as he explained things, and Peter just wanted to console him. He took comfort in knowing that this would all be over soon, and then he’d be able to give him a hug and assure him he wasn’t alone. He still hadn’t really figured out what was going to happen with his pops, but he didn’t need to at this point. He just needed to make sure they caught him, and then it could go from there. 

“Yeah, no I got this.”

“I hope you do kid. Upgrade looks good by the way.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Mr Stark, this is really awesome, by the way.”

After putting the suit on, he’d discovered a whole range of new capabilities. There were several different web-shooting features, as well as a whole range of features available through the eye lenses. It efficiently blocked out enough light and sound to make it possible for him to function somewhat normally. 

Since he’d been bitten, his senses had been amplified to a near-unbearable level. He’d tried to make a suit that would accommodate for that, however, all he was able to come up with were darker lenses, leaving his ears susceptible to any loud sounds. Now, however, his senses were still enhanced, but to a much more manageable level, allowing him to appreciate his improved sight.

It had been a bit of a shock to his parents when Peter demanded he get contacts instead of wearing glasses all the time. Before he’d been bitten, he’d needed the lenses for even the most basic of tasks. After the bite, however, he no longer needed the glasses. Such an improvement, overnight, wouldn’t be explicable to his dads, so despite the irritation, he’d worn the glasses for a few more days, until the contacts arrived. Since then, he’d thrown a pair out every day to make it look as if he were wearing them. His dads had eventually chalked it up to him being at high school and scared about what other kids were saying about him.

He hadn’t told his parents about Flash, or the bullying. It had never gotten that bad, and he’d been scared of how they would react. They were both (or had been?) overly protective, especially his pops, and he knew that if they found out, they’d be demanding a meeting with both Flash and his parents, and then his identity as Iron Man and Captain America’s son would be revealed. Admittedly, the glasses had been a topic of insults, but once they were gone Flash had just moved on to the next thing he didn’t like about him.

Happy started up the car again and made his way to the airport. Peter’s stomach rumbled nervously, the magnitude of the situation finally hitting him. He was about to go up against his pops, face-to-face with the man for the first time since he’d gone rogue. He could only hope that he’d be able to keep his emotions in check long enough for a solution to be reached. 

He’d also have to see Barnes though, and Peter was scared that he wouldn’t be able to subdue his anger towards him if he ended up in combat with him. Peter followed a strict, no more violence than needed policy, bar the whole punching Flash situation, so the thought that he might seriously injure someone was a little alarming. The guy was a super-soldier though, so if he was going to attack anyone with his full strength, then he was glad it was him. 

The car slowed down, before rolling to a stop on the tarmac. They all bundled out of the car, with his dad and Rhodey flying up into the air above them. He took his spot, hiding behind one of the other cars there, crouching down with his camera trained on the scene before him.

_This was it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might not be the longest of stories, we're probably almost halfway through, or definitely a third. It will be part of a series though, so this won't be it. Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hadn’t realised quite how violent things were going to get.

Peeking through one of the gaps between the parked cars, Peter could just make out the form of his pops running towards the helicopter. He was fully dressed in his Captain America get-up, with his shield attached to his arm. His heart lurched a little at the sight, but he kept his ground, knowing that this was bigger than him wanting his family back together again.

His dad and Rhodey intercepted him, as per the plan, and began attempts to talk him down, before the situation escalated beyond words. His dad had told him that this is where he’d hoped it would end, but that he wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be so. 

A man in a black catsuit came leaping in from nowhere, causing Peter to fall back onto his hands from his crouched position. No one had been that sure when the ‘Black Panther’ guy was going to show up, but his arrival put them that much closer to physical confrontation. He seemed to know his pops already, judging by their greetings, but Peter shelved that investigation for later. 

Right now, he was learning even more about what happened with his dads over the past few days. He’d already learnt about how the secretary of state, General Ross, was involved, however, he didn’t know quite how strict his instructions were to his dad. He hoped that it was because of these constraints, that his dad didn’t make time to see him in New York. 

Natasha arriving was really the last resort in terms of the more diplomatic approach. If even she was unable to talk his pops down, that’s when they were going to have to move onto plan B.

“Underoos!”

Hearing his cue, Peter didn’t even hesitate to leap into action. Launching himself into the air, he shot a web out at his pops’ shield. Only because the man was caught off guard, Peter was able to dislodge the shield from his grip and retract the web, allowing him to catch the shield in his own hand. Whilst still in the air, he shot out another web, this one binding his pops’ hands together in front of him. He ended the whole stunt on top of a car, in his trademark crouching pose. 

“Nice job, kid.”

Hearing the praise from his dad caused a smile to tug on his lips, but he attempted to keep it down in the name of professionalism. The shocked look on his pops’ face did make him feel a little bit guilty, but he was Spider-Man right now, and Peter feelings needed to be ignored.

“Thanks,” he began, and he probably should have ended it there, too. But instead, he just started rambling. “I mean, I could’ve stuck the landing a little better…it’s just the new suit...Wait! It’s nothing, Mr Stark, it-it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation,” his dad shook his head at him.

Peter looked back over to his pops. 

“Po…Cap-Captain. Big fan, I’m Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it later,” his dad cut in. That was probably for the best really. He didn’t think it would look that good if he’d rambled on about how much he idolised the leader of the opposing team, a man who was currently wanted by 117 different nations and a whole lot of intelligence agencies. “Just, good job,” his dad finished.

“You’ve been busy,” his pops commented with the hint of a smirk. 

“And you’ve been a complete idiot,” his dad cut back. “Dragging in Clint, ‘rescuing’ Wanda from a place she doesn’t even want to leave, a _safe_ place. I’m trying to keep…I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.”

“Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. Now! Because it's us!” The way his dad was looking at his pops let Peter know that this was when it went beyond being an Avengers issue. This was about the two of them now, about family. Peter hoped that the more personal approach was going to sway his pops back to the right side, to forget about Barnes and come home. “Or a squad of J-SOC guys... with no compunction about being impolite. Come on.” The last part was almost whispered.

Steve looked over to his side before holding his bound hands high up in the air. Peter frowned at the sight, before an arrow split through the air, and cut through the webbing. 

“Alright, Lang.”

Peter’s frown only increased at his added confusion. Who the hell was Lang? He caught sight of movement on the shield he was holding, noticing a small creature moving along it.

“Guys, someth-,” before he could even finish his sentence, the creature began to grow rapidly and he was kicked square in the face. Pain erupted from this nose, leaving him unprepared for the sudden yanking on the shield. It came free from his grip easily as he flew back onto the roof of the truck behind him. He let out a pained moan but quickly got back on his fight, having to be ready for the next move. He really needed to impress his dad as Spider-Man.

“I believe this is yours, Captain America,” the now big creature-guy held out the shield to his pops, who quickly fit it back onto his arm. 

His dad came over his comm, informing them of two people in one of the parking deck. One of them was Wanda, who Peter hadn’t seen in as long as his dads. He called out commands to Rhodey, before floating into the air to chase after them.

Rhodey spotted another two in one of the terminals, Barnes and Sam. 

He’d been introduced to Sam, not long after the whole Winter Soldier incident. The man had helped his pops when it came to SHIELD and Hydra, so he’d always felt incredibly safe around him. He was one of the few that had been chosen to babysit him a couple of times, meaning his dad had obviously trusted him too. 

Sam helping out his pops only added another layer to the betrayal, but also made Peter question the situation even further. Surely if both Sam and his pops were fighting so hard, there had to be something worth fighting for, right? Peter doubted that the sole reason was Barnes, because the man had killed innocent people and there was no way that Sam would defend someone like that. 

He didn’t get any time to dwell on that, because next thing he knew, his pops had launched his shield at Rhodey, hitting his armour in his chest, sending him reeling back in the air.

“Hey, Mr Stark, what should I do?” Peter asked through his comm. 

“What we discussed,” his dad responded, seeming a little annoyed. “Keep your distance, web ‘em up.” 

“Okay, copy that.”

Peter ran across the tarmac and shot out a stream of web, pulling himself up into the air. He swung rapidly across the airport, towards the terminal where Barnes and Sam were hiding. 

It had a clear glass roof, allowing him to see the two men as they ran through the building. He crawled across it, trying to find the best place to break in. The two noticed him quicker than he would have liked, so he threw caution to the wind, attaching a web to the roof and swinging himself over the side. He came back towards the more building with greater force, allowing him to kick in one of the glass panels, and sail in far enough to land a kick to Sam’s side. He really didn’t want to hurt Sam, so he turned his attention to Barnes as he was trying to get up.

He turned just in time to catch the metal fist that Barnes had launched at him. The force of the hit let Peter know that he wasn’t going to be pulling any punches. He revelled in the stunned expression on the man’s face as he tried to assess who he was opposing.

“You have a metal arm? That is awesome dude.”

Not awesome enough to make Peter like him though.

Too caught up in his confrontation with Barnes, Peter didn’t notice that Sam had righted himself, and had unfurled his wings, flying towards him at full force. Peter quickly wrapped his legs around him, not allowing Sam to drop him when he wanted two. They engaged in a weird kind of air-wrestling.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Peter yelled as he shoved his hand into Sam’s face.

It didn’t really work, and Sam was able to flip the two and shove Peter off him. Peter went soaring back through the air before he was able to attach a string of web to the ceiling and begin swinging his way through the rafters. 

Barnes was off running again, with Sam flying through the air behind him. Sam was flying backwards, firing his guns towards Peter as he chased them. Peter had held a small degree of hope that they were only taser bullets or something, but the explosion one of them created when it hit the beam he was standing on crushed that down pretty quickly. That added a whole new level of danger to what he was doing, but Peter surprised himself with his ability to keep a level head during the fight.

He paused on another beam, trying to find out where Barnes had gone to. Something came flying at him from behind, and he reflexively caught hold of it. He almost lost his balance, but with his spider-grip, he managed to catch himself. It appeared to be some kind of billboard sign. As he sought out where it came from, he spotted Barnes poking his head out from behind a concrete pillar. He didn’t think too much about his next move, simply throwing the sign towards the man.

“Hey buddy, I think you lost this,” he called out just before it slammed into the pole that Barnes ducked back behind. 

A forceful kick in his side from Sam caused him to fall from his beam, but he quickly caught himself on a web and shot some of the fluid at the retreating wings that Sam was wearing. The web landed on the backpack and one of the wings, causing them to shut down, sending the man crashing into a stall.

Sam wasn’t down for long, rolling across the ground before standing up near a glass balcony. Peter quickly launched two more spurts of webbing, attaching each of the man’s hands to the railing behind him. Content that the man was secure, Peter came to a stop on the side of one of the pillars. 

“Those wings carbon fibre?”

Sam just gave him an incredulous look.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?”

“That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man.”

Now probably wasn’t the best time to be geeking out over an opponent’s gadgets, but the wings were pretty awesome. 

“I don't know if you've been a fight before but there's usually not this much talking.”

“Alright, sorry, my bad.”

He shot a web out at the roof and swung down towards Sam. Bucky ran in front of him, and he was able to kick the both of them through the balcony’s railing and onto the ground below. Peter jumped back up onto one of the stalls, webbing the two of them to the ground.

“Guys, look. I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr Stark, so, I’m really sorry.”

Before he could jump through one of the windows to get out of the building, a small drone thing attached a wire to his web shooter and yanked him out of a window. He caught a metal pole on the way out, slamming his head into it. His vision blacked out for a few seconds before he found himself falling to the ground. He wasn’t able to do anything to stop himself from crashing into the tarmac, intensifying the pain that radiated through his head. He tried to push himself back up, but the whole world was spinning, and he had to take a few more moments to gather himself.

To be completely honest, he hadn’t quite expected this when he’d agreed to come to Germany with his dad. He knew that they were going to be confronting his pops and that he’d probably have gathered a team himself. He hadn’t known that the team would include friends and family that he thought would protect him and his family. Now all he could think about was the part they were playing in breaking his family up. 

He also hadn’t realised quite how violent things were going to get. Even on the rooftop, his dad had seemed to believe that there wouldn’t be too much in the way of fighting and that it would definitely be a last resort. The actions of Barnes and Sam had scared him a little bit, forcing him to match their aggression. He really didn’t want any of this fighting, and he wished they could all just sit down and work this thing out.

* * *

It only took a minute or two for everything to settle back down, and Peter was able to stand back up confidently. It still hurt to move, but the adrenaline from the fight was still coursing through him, allowing him to make his way back to the runway they’d first arrived at. A quinjet had been stored away in one of the hangars so that they’d be able to take his pops and the rest straight into custody. He’d been hearing, over his comm, that his pops’ and his team were planning to steal the jet, so they could make their getaway. It made sense then, that the whole battle was coming to a head on the runway before the jet. By the time he’d swung himself down into position, both sides had lined themselves up, opposite each other. Peter found himself staring down the sometimes-big-sometimes-small guy.

The two sides approached each other, slowly at first, before they began to run.

“They’re not stopping,” he called out worriedly.

“Neither are we,” his dad stated with conviction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had to split the fight scene up into two chapters, because otherwise, it was just going to be way too long. This will be the shorter of the two. There's also a lot of dialogue straight from Civil War in this chapter and the next.  
> And, some people are getting quite defensive over storyline so I just thought I’d lay out some of my thoughts:
> 
> 1\. yeah to make my story work, Steve would’ve been removed from the ice years ago, as opposed to right before Avengers 1.  
> 2\. Part of the reason, I think, that Steve goes after Bucky is due to just losing Peggy, and being scared that he’ll lose his last connection to his past. He obviously cares about his family, but he also disagrees on the accords, so there’s a couple of things building up to his decision. I think you’ll see, as I continue, that family does change how Steve acts in the end. Steve’s also a stickler for justice, so when he realises Bucky didn’t do it, he needs to 'stand up for the little guy’.  
> 3\. It’s a fan fiction, some things aren’t gonna totally fluid and you mightn’t agree with how things are going. I’m just writing a storyline that I was really excited by and wanted to share.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, kid. There’s a lot going on here that you don’t understand.”

They all broke into a sprint, meeting with a clash of fist on shield. Peter stayed back a few metres, and launched webs at each of his opponents, trying to stop them in their fights against others. He managed to catch a couple of Clint’s arrows, much the man’s annoyance. Peter found a set of arrows shot towards him and had to rely on his spider-sense to prevent himself from being hit. A car hurdling towards him broke his concentration, with him having to jump atop it to stop himself from being flattened. 

Wanda stood before him, thrusting car after car towards him. He leapt across them, like stepping stones, but it was getting tiring. His thighs were aching from each and every jump, and the rhythm he’d been lulled into left him open. Wanda suddenly yanked back one of the cars, meaning he had misjudged his leap. He crashed to the ground in a roll, catching sight of Wanda hurrying off to help Clint who was up against Nat. He watched as she threw Nat into a jet bridge. He made to go over and help her up, but the spy was on her feet again before Peter could even being to make his way to her. 

Wanda didn’t stop there though. She rushed over to help Barnes who was about to have his throat ripped out by the Black Panther dude. She sent him into a nearby building, before looking to see who needed her help next. Deciding that she was probably one of the strongest opponents, Peter knew he needed to go after her. He launched a web at one of the bridges, swinging over towards them. 

As he swung through the air, he spotted his pops’ shield spinning towards him. Unable to react fast enough, the shield sliced through his web, again causing him to fall from the sky. This time he managed to land on a gangway, opposite where his pops was standing. 

The man looked relatively unscathed, other than the claw marks that ran down his shield. He knew, from watching clips on TV, that his dad was one of the best combat fighters in the Avengers. Obviously, that had come in handy today, allowing him to cause damage without receiving any himself. 

“That thing does not obey the law of physics,” Peter had commented as he witnessed the shield sail back through the air and his pops catch it on his arm. He knew that a lot of the skill in using the shield came from bouncing it off different objects, and perfecting the angle so it would return, but he’d never really had a chance to question its composition. Weaponry and Avengers tech were some of the no-go zones for Peter, with his dads so desperate to ‘protect’ him. 

His pops’ head snapped up, and for a moment Peter worried that he hadn’t done enough to disguise his voice.

“Look, kid. There’s a lot going on here that you don’t understand.”

It was so like his pops to try and take the moral high ground and talk down to him as if he had no idea what was going on, just like his dad said he would.

“Mr Stark said you’d say that. Wow”

His pops seemed distracted enough, so Peter launched a web at his shield, and one at his foot, twisting and yanking them towards him. The move caused his pops to fall down and be dragged towards him along the ground. Peter launched himself off the truck he was standing on and slid towards him. They met in the middle, Peter’s feet causing Steve to fly up into the air. His back met the doors of a truck and he fell down on his face.

Peter’s heart dropped, and he almost ran towards him. He didn’t actually want to hurt his pops, but, as was displayed with the Flash incident, Peter still didn’t know the extent of his strength. The only thing that stopped him was his pops’ quick recovery time. Within seconds, he was lifting his head off the ground and looking around. 

“He also said to go for your legs.”

His pops pushed himself back onto his feet and began sprinting towards his shield. Peter had managed to dislodge it when he’d kicked him. Peter quickly shot two webs, one for each hand, trying to stop him from reaching it. He thought he’d got him for a moment, his pops stopping long enough to allow him to pull the webs back towards him. His pops must have anticipated this and yanked the webs back towards himself. Peter let out a scream as he was lifted off the ground and tugged towards his pops. Steve jumped up and landed a kick to his back, sending Peter into the ground.

Despite the pain in his head, Peter quickly jumped back up. He knew that he had probably taken a few more hits than was tolerable today, but he hoped that wouldn’t affect him too badly. He aimed a web at his pops’ shield again, but the man just wiped it off. With the web still in his hand, he pulled it towards him. Once again, Peter found himself in the air, but this time his face was met mercilessly by the round shield. 

His nose cracked on impact, and Peter could feel some blood trickling down towards his lip. He’d never broken his nose before, and a sick part of him wondered if this was how Flash had felt the other day. Another sick part of him hoped so. 

The suit didn’t feel like it would absorb any liquid, meaning no one would know he was injured. And that was a good thing because the fight obviously wasn’t over. 

He quickly scampered a few metres away. He needed to get up high and get a better understanding of all his possible options. He shot a web at a jet-bridge before him and pulled himself on top of it. 

“Did Stark tell you anything else?”

Peter paused at the question. His dad hadn’t actually told him that much at all. They’d had a twenty-minute discussion in the car before the fight. Other than that, and the conversation on the rooftop, it’d been days since his dad had told him anything. That obviously wasn’t what his pops was enquiring about though.

“That you’re wrong, and you think you’re right. That makes you dangerous.”

That answer gave enough without really giving anything.

Peter attached a web to the top of the jet-bridge, before swinging around and underneath it. He’d intended to swing down and web him up, as was the plan, but his pops landed a roundhouse kick to his stomach, sending him into the jet-bridge’s support beam.

Taking so many hits was really beginning to add up. Peter stayed down for a few more seconds than usual, trying to recover. His ribs were already sore from the fall after the fight with Sam and Barnes earlier. This hit had him heaving as he tried to collect himself. The pause gave Steve time to make the next move.

“I guess he had a point.”

His pops then threw the shield at the same support beam Peter had just flown into. The beam gave way, and Peter found himself scrambling to get back up. He only just made it in time to catch the bridge and stop it from crushing him. His muscles screamed in protest, not used to taking that much weight. He had stopped a car going 3000-pound car going 40 miles an hour once, but his body had hurt for a week afterwards. He didn’t work out either, other than his patrols, something he would make sure to start doing once all of this was over. 

Looking back up at his pops, Peter noted the somewhat guilty expression on his face. The move had been risky, with no guarantee that Peter was going to catch the bridge in time. Peter, himself, had been scared that he was going to be squished like a literal spider. He hadn’t thought his pops was going to take it that far. Even though he had no idea that it was his son he was fighting, his pops had never been one to use excessive force in battle. And he definitely knew that he was fighting someone who was young and inexperienced. He knew, after fighting Sam and Bucky, that this was pretty close to all-out war, but he’d never thought that one of his dads was going to try and kill him. 

“You got heart, kid. Where you from?”

“Queens,” Peter squeezed out the lie as he struggled under the weight of the bridge. 

Steve let out a little and gestured to himself.

“Brooklyn.”

* * *

“Holy shit.”

Peter had only just managed to escape from under the bridge when the creature-guy turned into a giant. He had no idea what had happened to allow this guy to turn both big and small, but that was kind of rich coming from a guy who got bitten by a radioactive spider and could now crawl up walls.

His heart leapt as he saw Rhodey being flung through the air. There was no way he could recover fast enough to gather himself. All though it probably wouldn’t kill him, crashing at that speed would cause enough damage to put the War Machine out of action for a little while. Peter, knowing that he had to try his best to save him, ran up the closest ramp and shot a web up at him. 

The web caught onto his suit, lifting Peter into the air as Rhodey continued to sail backwards. Conscious that he had to do something fast, Peter lowered himself down, purposely crashing himself into a truck. He went in feet-first, minimising the impact on his body. He pulled the webbing with all his strength, already weakened from being forced to catch the bridge earlier. It was just enough to catch Rhodey before he crashed into a plane. Once the man was righted and powering up his thrusters, Peter let go of the web. The release sent him tumbling off the truck, and back onto the tarmac. 

The big guy didn’t seem to have the same qualms Peter did about excessive property damage though. Instead, he ripped a wing off one of the planes and sent it flying towards his dad. Luckily Tony saw it coming and propelled himself into the air and out of the way.

Peter needed to get back into the fight before things got worse.

Spotting Rhodey flying around the big guy, Peter launched a web at his suit again. His time, he allowed himself to be carried behind him and towards the big guy. Once they got close enough, Peter shot a web at him, releasing his hold on Rhodey. He quickly proceeded to swing around, creating a gradual webbing that he hoped would tie him up. Along the way, he also managed to land a few kicks, a little bit of revenge for the guy attacking his dad. 

Rhodey was still the big guy’s target though, with him swinging cars and trucks at him. Rhodey shot down the weapons with his guns before they could do any damage. Peter felt searing pain explode from several points in his back, but he tried to push that aside for the moment. He needed to bring this guy down, and anything else could wait. 

Vision, crashing into the side of the big guy, sent him falling towards a plane. Peter had to release his webbing to jump out of the way and stop himself from being squished. Re-examining the scene before him, Peter came up with a plan. 

“Hey, guys, you ever see that really old movie, _Empire Strikes Back_?”

“Jesus, Tony. How old is this guy?” Rhodey’s voice came over his comm.

“I don't know, I didn't carbon-date him. He's on the young side,” his dad cut back.

Peter re-attached a web to the big guy and began to swing around him again.

“You know that part...where they're on the snow planet...with the walking thingies?”

“Hey, maybe the kid’s onto something.”

Peter smiled as his dad caught on to his plan. He really hoped he was proud of what he’d come up with, and that it would all work out. He had now wrapped around the big guy’s legs several times, tightening his hold every time he came back around. 

“High now, Tony. Go high.”

Peter managed to swing around one more time before his dad and Rhodey flew up together and punched the big guy in the head. The guy began to sway, falling backwards. He tried to right himself, but the webbing around his legs prevented him from holding his ground. Instead, he started falling into the plane behind him.

“Yes! Ha-ha! That was awesome!” Peter yelled jubilantly. 

He swung back around and gave his dad and Rhodey a thumbs-up. He didn’t notice the large hand flying towards him before it was too late. It came slamming into his side, making Peter wince at the cracking sounds coming from his rib-cage. The force of the hit sent him back through the air. He was in too much pain to try and collect himself. He continued through the air, before slamming into the side of a plane. 

A sudden, overwhelming pain burst from his chest. As he slid off the plane and onto the ground, breathing had become very difficult. His lungs didn’t seem to be expanding properly, and he felt the sensation of liquid getting caught in his throat. The more he tried to breathe, the worse it got. He tried to cough it away, causing a thick red liquid to push its way through his lips. He only choked further as the liquid got stuck around his mouth, the mask preventing it from escaping.

On top of the respiratory issues, Peter was becoming more aware of the pain radiating from both his back and his head. The former wasn’t something he’d paid much mind to since he first noticed it when swinging around the big guy. Now, with the adrenaline seeping away from him though, the pain was so intense that tears had begun to force their way down his cheeks. His head was still aching from before, but now the throbbing was becoming impossible to ignore.

In the distance, he heard the muffled sound of metal coming into contact with the ground. At first, he thought it was his dad, but then Rhodey’s suit appeared in his line of sight. It was hard to make anything out though, with his vision not clearing up from his most recent knock to his head. 

“S-sir…”

Rhodey’s faceplate came flying up at the sight of Spider-Man bleeding out on the ground. There were three holes in the back of his suit, with blood pouring out of them and forming a puddle underneath him. Rhodey’s heart constricted as he realised he was the only one with ammunition that could cause this kind of damage. He didn’t know when he could have possibly hit him, but it was something he would find out later. 

“Kid!” He called out, rushing over to Peter.

Rhodey fell to his knees beside him, something made difficult by the bulky War Machine suit, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Peter jumped at the contact and tried to roll onto his back. The pain from the movement caused him to gasp, only making him choke on the blood in his throat again.

Hearing the strangled sound, Rhodey reached forward and gripped the edge of his mask. Peter tried to stop him, but he was too weak to lift his hands. Rhodey tugged, and in one movement, the mask was pulled over his head and dropped to the ground beside him.

Tony, looking on at the scene from the air, felt his whole world shatter.

“ _Peter!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all come to a head!! I don't know where all my time to update has come from, but I've almost done the next chapter too, so prepare yourselves.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cold consumed him.

“ _Peter!_ ”

Peter’s eyes widened fractionally as his dad’s call cut through the air. All the fear and anxiety he was capable of feeling at this point came to the fore and he started hyperventilating.

They weren’t supposed to know, not yet, not like this. He’d known that he was going to have to _eventually_ let people know about Spider-Man, but he’d really hoped that it would be on his own terms. He’d imagined situations where he’d sat his dads down in the loungeroom and held both of their hands as he gently broke the news to them. Or maybe a time when he’d been welcomed into the Avengers with open arms, and he’d felt safe enough to reveal himself to the whole team. In most of the scenarios he was at least 18, so even if his dads got angry, he’d be allowed to continue anyway.

Except now, here he was, 14 and bleeding out at an airport in Berlin after fighting his pops and extended family. Everyone knew, and all they could see was a weak kid who couldn’t hold his own. And he’d tried, God he’d tried so hard, but it wasn’t enough. It seemed that everything he did would never be enough. He couldn’t keep his family together, he couldn’t control his strength, and now he couldn’t make it through his first real ‘mission’ without ending up the way he currently was. 

He really thought that he’d been doing well, too. He had been able to take on his Sam and Bucky, kind of, and his pops too, kind of. He’d even come up with the idea to take down the big guy. But ultimately, he’d let the team down, and he knew deep down that his pops and Barnes were going to escape. Now, everyone was too busy fussing over him instead of chasing them down. It was going to be his fault that they got away.

He felt his eyes getting heavy and tried to force them back open. He could now see his dad’s face next to him, full of so much worry. He hated himself for doubting his dad throughout the past few days. Looking at him now, there was absolutely no doubt that he loved Peter. The way that his eyes watered, and he cried out for him. He’d just been too busy this week. And Peter knew that he simply didn’t have time to deal with him. There were more important things, and Peter felt his heart lighten a little bit at the acceptance that washed over him. He let his eyes close this time, too tired to fight right now.

A small smile curled on his lips as he wrapped himself in the warm thoughts of love. He still worried about what was going to happen to his pops and Barnes and how the whole situation would unfold from here, but his mind wouldn’t let him dwell on it. The worries simply passed through is mind, allowing him to focus on the happier thoughts of his dad and pops. He imagined himself wrapped up in their arms again, where there was no fighting or yelling and everything was good.  
  
  
_Peter nuzzled his face into his pops’ chest, revelling in the warmth he was surrounded in. Each hand of his was clasped tightly in either of his dads’. It made his position a little bit awkward, but Peter was way too comfortable to care. His pops still smelt like leather and peppermint, so dissimilar to his dad’s scent of oil and coffee. They were so different, the two of them, but when they had moments like these, there was nothing between them._

_“Peter…”_

_Peter shook his head and snuggled further into the fabric of his pops’ t-shirt._

_“Not yet dad. Just a few more minutes.”_

_His dad didn’t say anything in response, but Peter felt a kind hand rubbing at his back. The repetitive, smooth motion, through his shirt, only drove Peter further into his little heaven. Lying like this, with a dad on either side, Peter didn’t know if he’d ever felt happier. Everything was so calm and so perfect._

_Here, he’d never let anyone down. Everyone seemed happy and unburdened. It seemed his biggest worry was that he was going to cramp immensely after spending so long in his curled-up position. There were no accords or one-armed super soldiers, just the three of them. Peter and his dads._

_“Peter, you need to wake up now…”_

_Peter let out an angry moan but refused to open his eyes. He refused to let this moment go, to ruin everything again. He couldn’t break his family apart, this was his chance to make things right._

_The hand stopped rubbing at his back, and Peter felt irrational tears welling in his eyes at the loss of contact. His back started to feel cold, making him shiver uncontrollably._

_Where did all the warmth go?_

_The chest he was lying his head against turned icy beneath his head. His own chest started to burn, a cold, unbearable sensation that began to spread throughout his body. It seeped through his bones, through his veins, sucking out all the love and comfort he’d just had. It seemed to draw itself to his head and to his back, forcing whimpers from his lips. The hand that had left his back came up to nestle itself in his hair. What started out at soothing, comforting strokes, turned into a harsh, unrelenting tugging._

_Peter tried to hold onto the moment. It was okay for him to be cold. He would take the pain and the discomfort if it meant they could still be together. If he could keep the smiles and love on his dads’ faces, Peter would do anything._

_“Peter!”_  
  
  
“-eed you to listen to me, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open as the heartbreaking desolation swept through his body. Despite his inability to see properly, he was able to take in the airport around him. 

His brows drew together in confusion. This wasn’t home. Where were his dads? Why was he in so much pain? Peter didn’t know the answers to his questions but knew that he didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go back to his dads. He tried to close his eyes again, to go back to where they were all together, but it wasn’t working. He couldn't return to the comfort of his dads. He let out desperate cries as he tried so hard, yet failed to go back.

A hand grabbed onto his shoulder, but it wasn’t like the warm hand he’d had on his back before. This one was even harsher than the one in his hair, shaking him in a way that crushed all of his hopes of ever going back.

“No…”

He tried to shrug the hand off, but it only grabbed on tighter. Its fingers dug into his joint, spreading its cold down through his body.

Peter was overcome with the unbearable urge to get the hand off him. It was stopping him from getting back to his dads, trying to keep them apart. Peter didn’t want them to be apart anymore. He began to thrash his body, moving it in every kind of direction, trying to dislodge the iron grip.

“Peter, please.”

The quiet voice broke through the cold, bringing a quiet warmth to his chest. That was his dad’s voice. His dad was here. He searched around frantically, trying to find him. His eyes fluttered all around, taking in the grey metal encasing of the man next to him. He spotted the red and gold figure just beyond his reach. His stretched his arm out towards him, silently begging him to come closer.

“Dad…”

Without hesitation, his dad fell forwards, grabbing onto his hand. Peter whimpered slightly at the cold metal but held it tightly nonetheless. 

Having his dad close to him meant that Peter was almost there. He just needed to get his pops, then they’d be together. Then he could be warm again. His eyes ran over the scene around him again, but the sight of a red and silver-suited man sent him spiralling into a panic. 

All his memories surged forward and hit him at once. The fighting and the battle, why they were at the airport at the first place. They needed to stop them, to stop Barnes. His pops’ best friend who had killed all those people. The man who had taken his pops away and broken up his family. He drew in a deep breath, trying to convey his urgency to his dad.

“You gotta stop them! You gotta go! He’s going to take him away.”

His dad laid his other hand on his thigh reassuringly, trying to calm him down. He wasn’t leaving though, he wasn’t going after Barnes. He couldn’t just let him take away pops.

“Peter you need to calm down, please.”

His dad’s voice was shaky but resolute. He didn’t seem to be concerned about pops going. That couldn’t be right. His dad couldn’t just let him go, not when Peter was so close to getting them together again.

“You’re not listening to me!” He yelled. “He’s taking him away, Dad.”

Breathing was becoming harder and harder as the panic took over. No one was doing anything. The guy in the silver and red suit, who couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to be big or small, was just standing there, with no one apprehending him. No one seemed to care that Barnes was going to take his pops, that he was going to lose his family. 

His breath began to catch on the liquid in his throat, making Peter choke. A strange gurgling sound echoed from his throat, only making Peter panic more. He tried to cough the liquid out, but his rapid breathing only drew it back in and started the cycle again. 

Peter felt the footsteps beside him, more than he heard them. His hearing was still incredibly muffled, so he’d barely even registered them audibly. His eyes caught sight of Sam, but he couldn’t stop the choking long enough to warn anyone. Sam was on Barnes’ side, not theirs. He was probably going to take his dad away from him too. 

Sam took a similar kneeling position to his dad, on the other side of him. Only he was a lot more hands-on, pushing Peter onto his side and tucking his arm under his head. His hands pushed Peter’s chin up, and the blood slowly began to dribble out of his mouth. Peter could now cough properly, sending more of the fluid onto the concrete before him. His frown deepened at its deep red colouring.

As he started to come down from his panic a little, it was reignited by the realisation that his dad’s hand was gone. When he was pushed onto his side and his position shifted, he must have lost contact with him. 

Pulling the arm out from under his chin took a lot more effort than it should have, but Peter was determined to get back to his dad. He could sense the cold just waiting to take him back. As soon as he removed his arm, he could feel the liquid beginning to build up in his throat again, but he needed his dad. Frustrated tears forced their way down his cheeks and he waved his arm around blindly.

Finally, his hand was encased in the familiar metal once again, and he could finally settle down a little bit. He tilted his chin up, and more of the red fluid emptied out of his throat. He made a conscious effort to keep his eyes focused on his dad though, instead of looking at his surroundings. Seeing Sam and the others that had helped Barnes was only going to make him panic more. Right now, he just needed it to be him and his dad.

A small part of his mind took note of the fact that Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and he let his hopes rise. She must be going after his pops and Barnes. If anyone, other than Peter or his dad, was going to bring his pops back, Natasha would do it. He knew that she wouldn’t let him down. 

Feeling the warmth again, Peter allowed himself to be lulled towards sleep once more. He didn’t have his pops, and his heart clenched at that, but at least he still had his dad. He still had family and he was still loved. He could let himself rest for a little while now. Natasha would bring his pops back to them. 

Blinking tiredly, Peter knew he was moments away from drifting off. Another look at his dad’s face reminded him of the tears in his eyes. Why was his dad crying? Everything was going to be okay now. 

“S’okay, dad. I’m not cold anymore,” he sighed, happily.

That only seemed to upset his dad more, but Peter was losing the battle to keep his eyelids open at the moment. Part of him didn’t even want to fight the tiredness, but he didn’t want his dad to be upset anymore. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling his strength rapidly depleting.

“Peter, no!”

He felt some more shifting around, on both sides of him, before his dad’s hand was ripped from his grip. Peter let out a distressed cry, trying to find the hand again. The warmth was ebbing, and Peter no longer wanted to let his eyes close. That didn’t make it any easier to keep them open though.

“Stop! That’s my son!”

His dad’s distraught shouting only served to torment Peter further. Why did he sound even further away now? Was it just his hearing getting worse, or was he leaving Peter alone again? His mind travelled back to the past few days without any contact with his dad, and the loneliness abandonment that had plagued him since. 

Peter tried to work his way back to his dad’s voice, back to the warmth. He tried so hard to fight back the exhaustion and the darkness, but he failed. Just like he’d failed in keeping his family together. 

The cold consumed him

* * *

“ _Peter!_ ”

Steve’s head snapped up. 

He was about to board the jet with Bucky when Tony’s heartbreaking scream cut through the air. His chest tightened at the raw emotion in his husband’s voice. He knew that Tony was in pain, he didn’t have to see him to know that. 

His heart was being pulled in two different directions. He knew that going with Bucky to find the supersoldiers was important, like saving the world important. And even though that much was obvious, his duty to his family was pulling him back towards Tony. 

And it wasn’t just Tony who needed him. He’d called out for Peter, for their son. Their son, who Steve had been so cruel in ignoring when he’d pleaded with him not to go with Bucky. Who’d been in near tears when he realised he was leaving him, that he had placed his loyalty to his friend over his loyalty to his family. 

That was what it boiled down to. It didn’t matter that he’d just lost Peggy and that he was petrified of losing his last connection to his past. It didn’t matter that he didn’t agree with the accords, which now just seemed like useless pieces of paper bound together. His family had needed him, and he’d ignored them. He didn’t intend on making that mistake again.

He threw Bucky an apologetic look - sorry that he couldn’t go with him, but not sorry that he was choosing his family – and stepped off the ramp. Natasha, who was still in the hangar, looked at him with so much sorrow and regret that Steve thought he might pass out right there. 

“I need you to go with him.”

Her eyebrows raised at his demand.

“Steve…”

“Nat…I…” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Tony’s out there, and he needs me now, more than ever. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t feel it was urgent. I can’t just leave him again, or Peter either, not like this.”

Without any warning, Natasha sprung forward and wrapped her arms around him. It wasn’t the first time they’d hugged, heck they’d even had to kiss that one time, but there was so much more meaning and intent in this embrace. It gave him confidence too, knowing that Natasha was supporting him in this let him know that he was doing the right thing. He hugged her back briefly but didn’t want to dwell too long.

“Of course,” she whispered into his neck.

The two pulled away from each other, with Natasha heading up the ramp towards Bucky. His best friend had a look of understanding on his face, and once again Steve found himself floored by the gratitude he had for him. Even when he was leaving him when he had to fight one of his greatest battles, Bucky understood. They gave each other an understanding nod before Steve turned back towards the airport.

T’challa was still kneeling on the ground, trying to regain his bearings after being turned on by Natasha. He gave Steve a look of contempt but mainly ignored him as he made his way through the rubble of the control tower.

A few times, he found himself almost tripping over the debris in his rush to get to his husband. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much of it, and he pushed himself into a sprint to reach Tony.

Rounding the corner, he finally spotted him, kneeling next to a red and blue clad body. He figured this was the kid he’d been fighting earlier that day, and his heart dropped a little at the thought of him being injured. He didn’t know the kid, but in their brief interactions, he had reminded him so much of Peter. The world needed more people like that, not less.

He pushed himself harder, wanting desperately to get back to his husband. They’d spent so long apart, and it all seemed so pointless now. They had a son back home, but they were out here fighting as if it would only implicate the two of them. They’d forgotten what really mattered, but Steve was willing to try again. 

Getting closer, he could make out more of what was going on. The kid was definitely injured, with a growing puddle of blood pooling beneath him. Tony was kneeling next to him, grabbing onto his hand firmly. He had such an anguished look on his face, that Steve almost wanted to cry for him. The look of vulnerability from Tony was reserved for only those who mattered the most to Tony, letting Steve know that the kid must’ve really wormed his way into his heart. 

Sam and Rhodey were on either side of the kid’s head, preventing Steve from seeing his face. Tony seemed to be getting more agitated as Steve neared them, trying to keep the kid’s attention. It must be pretty bad if Tony was already trying to keep him awake. 

Steve didn’t even know when the injuries could have occurred. The kid seemed fine when they’d been fighting just before. Even though Steve had collapsed that bridge, he’d caught it, right? It couldn’t have crushed him if he’d ended up lying down twenty metres away. The last thing Steve had seen of the main fight, was when Lang had suddenly grown huge. He couldn’t remember seeing any harm come to the kid.

When Steve finally got close enough, he slowed to a walk. Tony was obviously distressed, and Steve didn’t want to aggravate that any further by popping up beside him suddenly. He’d been so focused on Tony, and how he was coping, that he hadn’t realised he could now make out the kid’s face.

Looking down, Steve frowned at the too-familiar chocolate locks, that were now matted with blood and sweat. His heart sped up as he took in the pale skin and the freckles he’d already mesmerised. He held out a tiny bit of hope, but at seeing the deep brown eyes seeking out his dad, Steve knew. 

His knees buckled at the realisation that it was his son lying before him. His heart crumpled further and further as he ran his eyes over Peter’s body. He gasped at the angry bullet wounds scattered across his back. His poor, innocent baby, caught up because he and Tony couldn’t solve their issues like normal people. They’d caused this.

“Stop! That’s my son!”

The remaining tension in Peter’s body dissipated as his head lolled back on the ground. Steve choked back the tears that were suddenly threatening to spill down his cheeks. He needed to be strong. Tony and Peter needed him to be strong right now, and he couldn’t let them down. Not again.

Steve looked back at Tony to see Rhodey trying to hold him back from Peter. Sam was hurriedly moving about Peter, shifting him around every so often. Tony watched him with enraged eyes.

“Get off him! You’re hurting him!”

“Tony, please. I was a pararescue airman in the Air Force, I know what I’m doing. You need to let me help him.”

That didn’t settle Tony, the man still fighting against his best friend’s hold. Steve was aware that he had to do something. Right now, Sam was their best bet at healing Peter, and he knew that Tony would never forgive himself if he had jeopardised their son’s life. 

Taking one more look at Peter, who still wasn’t moving, Steve knew that whatever had happened between him and Tony didn’t matter anymore. Right now, only Peter mattered.

“Tony.”

“Steve?”

No more words were said as Steve staggered back to his feet, and the two of them stumbled towards each other. They fell into a desperate embrace, clinging to each other as they waited for the medical team to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a little tough to write. Sorry if the Steve POV is a little rusty, but I'm not used to writing from his perspective. I just thought it was quite important to have his POV when he hears Tony. 
> 
> Okay, so I realised in the comments from some of you, that you received notifications even though I hadn't updated. I think what's happened is that when I was updating the summary, some of the tags, and typos I'd later found, that the update date changed. I'm not sure if I somehow did that myself, or if it did it automatically, but sorry if you thought there was a new chapter. I'll try to avoid having that happen if I have to edit again.


	8. Chapter Eight

The first thing that Peter was aware of, was the incessant, unbearably loud beeping noise coming from all around him. It permeated his skull, vibrating around his brain and driving him to a state of near-madness. It was a form of torture in itself, slowly but surely convincing Peter that he was no longer of sound mind. The only comfort he could take was in its stable rhythm, allowing him to predict the next beep, instead of internally flinching every time the sound went off. 

The beeping suddenly became erratic, with no sense of order or routine, sending Peter down into a spiral of panic. His breathing hitched as it sped up, giving him flashbacks of a drowning, suffocating sensation, of liquid getting caught in his throat. He couldn’t quite place where the phantom sensation came from, but it felt so real, that Peter was almost sure that he wasn’t just imagining it.

A warm palm pressed itself gently into his arm as he continued his struggle to catch his breath. 

He fought against the weight of his eyelids but regretted it almost immediately. As soon as his eyes opened just a crack, he was assaulted by the painfully bright, fluorescent lights surrounding him. As he’d experienced with the beeping sound, which had calmed but was still irritating, his senses were going into overdrive. His eyes burned, and he quickly scrunched them shut and turned his face to bury it into his pillow. Even still, his eyes ached. He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped from his lips and the tears that began to build up. Everything was just so overwhelming, and he couldn’t understand why everything hurt so bad.

Not only were his eyes and ears burning, but he also felt a sharp pain radiating through his ribcage. It was exacerbated by him twisting to cover his face, flaring with every inhale. His back had a weird, distant pain, as if it had been subdued, and was just waiting to assault him when the moment struck. There was a similar feeling in his head, but it was nowhere near as muffled, throbbing persistently against his skull. Peter wasn’t aware of a time in his life where he’d felt quite so uncomfortable and aching. 

“Turn the light off!”

Peter agreed with the familiar voice, despite its angry tone. 

“Tony…”

Peter’s heart fluttered. 

“Steve, they’re hurting him.”

Peter felt all his worries fade away as he was finally able to place the voices. His dads, they were here with him. He allowed himself a small smile as he knew that as long as both of them were here with him. 

The hand on his arm began to move up and down slowly in a comforting manner. Peter focused on it, trying to drown out the beeping sound. He felt the room get darker around him and let out a relieved sigh. He still kept his face buried in the pillow though, not wanting to risk opening his eyes again. The sound started to slow down into a steadier rhythm, like when he had first woken. The touch was familiar and comforting, allowing his thoughts to calm down a little, and his breathing soon followed. He’d forgotten how nice it felt to breathe deep, whole breaths. He laughed internally at how suddenly grateful he was for something as simple as breathing. 

Despite the warmth coming from the skin-to-skin contact, a shudder wracked his body. The room he was in must be air-conditioned, to the point where it became uncomfortable. Memories of an inescapable cold only intensified the feeling. His dads must have noticed him shivering, and one of them pulled his blanket to cover his shoulder. 

The hand that placed the blanket there began to recede, but Peter grabbed onto it with unusually quick reflexes, particularly given his drugged state. 

“Hey, Pete.”

Peter let out a moan at the sound of his pops’ voice, not keen to risk opening his eyes once more. His headache was finally beginning to settle, and he didn’t want it to spike again. The hand he was clinging onto gave a reassuring squeeze, before moving up to stroke his cheek. Peter nuzzled into the touch.

“Can you open your eyes for me, Peter?”

Peter shook his head, despite the begging tone in his dad’s voice. Opening his eyes really did not sound appealing to him right now. 

“The lights are off now, they’re not going to hurt you.”

Begrudgingly, Peter turned his face away from his pillow and forced his eyes open. Everything was blurry at first, and despite the dark light, Peter could make out a couple of shapes around the room. His dad was seated on a chair that was pushed right up against the bed. His hand was the one still gently stroking his cheek, but the rough callouses probably should have given that away. 

The other figure in the corner must have been his pops, but he seemed more drawn into himself than his usual proud posture allowed for. They were both dressed casually and were sporting several bruises and cuts on their faces. His dad looked way worse than his pops, but that probably made sense since the latter was a super-soldier. 

“Hey bud, how-”

“How are you feeling?”

Peter tried to ignore the glare that his pops gave his dad for cutting him off like that. He only then started to notice the tension in the room that seemed to grow impossibly thicker. The question did, however, bring his attention back to the pain that was radiating out of almost every cell in his body. Brief flashes of what had happened over the past couple of weeks appeared in his mind, and whilst the fighting and violence were at the forefront of his memories, he also remembered feeling neglected and ignored whilst everything was going on. But he didn’t want to deal with all that now, he was simply too tired. He wanted to spend a moment just resting before all the drama returned. Was that too much to ask?

Instead of replying, he simply hummed and turned his head the other way.

* * *

The next time he came to, things happened a lot faster. His faint sense of awareness was quickly followed by him opening his eyes. The lights were still off, thankfully, with only minimal light being let through the curtains. His dads were both still in the room, but this time they were bickering in the corner. There wasn’t any sudden rush of memories this time, instead Peter remembered exactly what had happened. 

He couldn’t help the resentment that was festering towards the two of them at this point. Yes, his pops left him, despite him begging him not to, and then proceeded to break several international laws and then almost crush him with a gangway. But then, his dad had completely ignored him the whole time this was happening and would only communicate with him through Happy. He didn’t exactly deserve the father of the year award either. 

“-needs to be back home, Steve. He should never have been here in the first place.” His dad sounded angry again, reminding Peter of the arguments that the two of them had in the lead up to the past week. He cringed thinking about it. 

“Well, whose fault is that Tony? When did you get in the business of recruiting _kids_?”

“He told me he was eighteen!”

“Well, maybe you should have done some more research.”

“Don’t try to pin this one on me! You’re the one that ran off with-”, His dad’s eyes finally landed on his and widened as he realised he was awake. “Peter…”

Peter looked up at the ceiling, desperately avoiding the two sets of concerned eyes that sought his out. He swallowed, trying to blink the tears back, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he had held some hope that the two of them might’ve reconciled their differences, for his sake. “Hey.”

The two of them rushed over to his bedside, each grabbing one of his hands. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Peter almost groaned as his dad asked that question again. “Do you actually care about how I feel?” He muttered the question, half hoping neither of his dads would hear. The brief feelings of forgiveness he’d experienced back on the tarmac were gone now that his mind had cleared. 

“What? Of course, I care, Peter. You’re my son!” His dad's face was reddening, but Peter couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. 

“That didn’t stop you from ignoring me for more than a week. Obviously, I know that you were in New York to recruit Spiderman, but you didn’t even stick around to say hi to _me_.” Peter tried to let his anger show in his tone, but his words were still kind of slurred from the drugs. 

“Peter, don’t talk to your father like that. I know you’re angry, but we just need to calm down before you hurt yourself again.”

“I don’t need you to defend me, Steve.”

Peter turned his glare towards his pops. “I really don’t think that you have any right to be telling me how I should be feeling or acting right now.”

“Peter-”

“-Shouldn’t you be with Barnes right now, anyway? Since you seem to care so much about his welfare. I thought you’d be out advocating for his acquittal, and the termination of the accords, since technically you’re now a fugitive too.”

“We’re working on a deal. They’ve conceded that Bucky is innocent, and they kind of owe him for finding the soldiers in Siberia. It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t agree with what’s in the accords though, but retirement isn’t really an option for me. Neither is leaving you guys behind again.”

“That’s not the point, Pops. I begged you not to go, and you still left! You didn’t think about how that would affect me and Dad, all you cared about was ‘Bucky’.” The name left a bad taste in his mouth, especially since he’d been very careful to continue to call the man ‘Barnes’, so as to avoid any kind of familiarity with him. “You knew how Dad reacted last time you went after him, yet you did it again.”

The heart rate monitor began to pick up speed. 

“I know you’re upset Peter, but yo-”

“-Damn right I’m upset.”

“Language, Peter.”

“Really, you’re going to lecture me right now about my _language_?”

“I know this situation isn’t ideal Pete, but I’m really trying to fix things here. I can’t do that if you don’t let me.”

“Why should I? How can I trust that you’re not just going to leave us again next time _Bucky_ gets into trouble?”

By now the beeping from the monitor was grating on his nerves, and his dad kept throwing it concerned looks. “I think you need to leave, Steve.”

“Wh-”

“We don’t need him stressing out right now, and obviously you being here is causing just that.”

“We need to talk about this, Tony.”

“Not right now we don’t. Peter nee-”

“What I need is for you two to stop telling me what I need. If you can go more than a week ignoring me, and expecting me to fend for myself then you can expect me to make my own decisions. Dad’s right, you being here isn’t making me heal any faster-” Peter ignored the smirk that his dad gave his Pops, “-but you being here isn’t helping either, Dad. Right now, I just want to be alone.”

“Pe-”

“-I’m tired, Dad. I just want to sleep right now. I can’t do that if you two are going to be here fighting the whole time.” 

His dads shared a guilty look, now both a light shade of red. They seemed to come to a silent agreement before they both looked back at him. His pops was the one to speak. 

“Alright Pete, but we’ll be just outside. If you need us for anything, please just let us know. We’re here for you.”

Peter avoided eye contact with both of them as they gave him reassuring kisses and departed solemnly. 

Finally, alone, Peter closed his eyes to try and think over everything that had just happened. He hadn’t exactly been lying to his pops about being tired though, and within minutes he’d dozed back off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh okay, this chapter is really short, and not fully proof read, but I just wanted to get this out there since it has been SOOOO long. I should wrap this up fairly soon, and as I’ve mentioned before, might revisit the potential for a sequel/series later. I’ve just been rereading it, and almost cringing at how poorly I feel that it’s been written. This definitely isn’t my best work, but hopefully I’ll be getting some new stories out there that I’m more excited about and proud of. Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around this long xx


	9. Chapter Nine

Throughout the rest of his recovery in hospital, Peter had remained largely non-verbal around his dads. They would often both be hovering around, at separate ends of the room they were in, but present nonetheless. Admittedly, he was getting tired of constantly trying to ignore them, but he really didn’t have the energy to deal with their arguing all the time. They tried to get him to open up again, but Peter really wanted to put that conversation off until they got home at least. He’d found out the day after he’d woken up that he was in a remote facility in Germany, with the best medical care on offer. His dad had advocated moving him back to New York, but the doctors had decided that it would be best for him to wait a couple of weeks until they moved him back.

It had been made explicitly clear to him that he had only survived because of his superior healing capabilities. The doctors were left stumped since they’d never seen anything quite like it. No ordinary person would have survived what he’d gone through, so Peter thought that maybe he was justified in putting himself before his dads’ drama for once. And even though he had rapid healing, he was still in near constant pain and was only just beginning to walk again. His nurse had almost had a heart attack when she came into the room to find him hobbling towards the bathroom. That had been a week ago, and since then, he’d been having daily rehabilitation sessions. Sitting in bed for over a week without moving had weakened his muscles considerably. The sessions were way more exhausting than he would have thought possible, but he could feel himself getter stronger each day, and he found himself agreeing with his dad on moving back to New York. He’d woken up two weeks ago, and he didn’t know what they were doing here that they couldn’t do back home.

It wasn’t just his dads that he’d been avoiding though. Despite numerous visits, Peter had little to no trust left for the rest of the Avengers that had sided with his pops. It wasn’t so much that they’d been supporting him when he abandoned Peter and his dad, but that they were willing to fight so hard against them when they’d tried to get him to come back home. He included Natasha in this because she’d agreed to go along with Barnes after everything that had happened. She seemed to accept this though and refrained from constantly trying to get him to talk to her again. He was thankful for that, but the rest of them seemed unwilling to follow her lead. Sam had seemed especially desperate for his forgiveness, popping his head in several times a day, but Peter felt that it was more because of his guilt towards injuring him than it was anything else. 

Maybe it was ironic then, that Rhodey was one of the few people that he was actually trusting and talking to right now. Despite him being the one who had inadvertently hurt him, and Rhodey continued to apologise for that, he was one of the only ones that had never forgotten that he mattered in all of this. Peter had heard him going off at his dad over ignoring him, and he was still refusing to so much as talk to his pops. Rhodey was also actively involved in his rehabilitation. He was helping him with his daily stretches and exercises, as well as overseeing his physiotherapy sessions. His dads had tried to take this role at the start, but they were constantly questioning the doctors, to the point where Peter had requested that they step back and actually allowed him to heal. It had been tough to convince them, but the rest of the Avengers, probably out of guilt, took his side and eventually they’d stopped interfering. 

Happy was also one of the few who Peter allowed himself to open up to, mainly because he’d been there for Peter when no one else had. Peter knew that he’d tried to get his dad to talk to him, and he wasn’t to blame for anything that had happened. He was also a quiet, comforting presence, who wasn’t constantly asking him how he was feeling and whether he needed anything. Peter really appreciated that in the midst of everything that was going on. 

It had taken some serious pleading but been given back his phone a few days prior– it was actually a whole new phone since his last one had been essentially destroyed during the battle – only to find scores of texts from Ned about his sudden absence from school. Being the nerd he was, Peter was beginning to worry about all the work that he’d missed out on lately, and that nobody had actually informed the school before his departure. The worried voicemails that Principal Morita had left for his dads were evidence of this, but now he’d been cleared for another three weeks off. Peter was determined that he’d only need two. 

Anyway, now that his health had begun to rapidly improve, and he was more mobile, they were finally putting in place the steps needed to move him back to the Tower. It wasn’t as easy as just hopping on a plane back home though. A lot of the equipment that they’d been using in his rehabilitation would have to come with them, meaning they’d had to get a quinjet to move everything back – there simply wasn’t enough room in his dad’s plane. There was also a whole lot of paperwork surrounding the accords – which were rapidly falling apart now that the world was becoming aware of what had happened over the past few weeks. Technically, Peter was an outlaw along with his pops and everyone that sided with him, since he’d never signed the documents before coming out here. Whilst he was constantly reassured that no one was actually seeking him out to arrest him, Peter was more concerned about his identity being revealed to the world. That would _not_ be fun. 

Other than his secret identity, Peter still hadn’t exactly explained to anyone how he’d gotten his powers yet, mainly since everyone seemed to sort of be tiptoeing around him. It would come up eventually, Peter wasn’t naive enough to think otherwise, but for now, he was happy to let the matter rest. It wasn’t the most convoluted story, or implausible considering some of the other stories his parents had heard, but he knew his dads had really been hoping that he’d turn out normal and not have to face the same pressures they did. Admittedly, it was kind of funny that it was him, with two superheroes for parents, that would get bitten by a radioactive spider and develop mutant capabilities.

  


* * *

  


“Hey, Pete.”

Peter looked up at the door as his dad awkwardly poked his head in. The bruises had mostly cleared at this point, but they’d only been replaced by heavy bags and a gaunt look. His dad had always looked relatively young for his age, but that was quickly beginning to change. He looked like he’d aged almost a decade in the past two weeks alone. He knew that his dad had been spearheading the talks around the accords again, this time with a slightly less affirmative stance. Even though he was nowhere near forgiving his pops, his dad wasn’t about to advocate for his own son’s arrest. Maybe the whole fight at the airport had softened his stance too. 

Peter gave him a short nod, enough to encourage him to enter the room. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and slowly approached the bed. It was clear in his stance that he had no idea how to act around him now, something that made Peter’s heart clench a little. Yeah, he was pissed at his dad, but that didn’t make him feel good about the way their relationship had been strained. 

“Uh, so…the big move’s coming up. They think you’ll be out of here the day after tomorrow, headed back home.” His dad’s voice was incredibly hoarse, but Peter thought it probably had more to do with talking too much rather than not enough. He knew the diplomatic discussions weren’t exactly straightforward. He silently shuffled closer and gently lowered himself down into the chair that was still placed next to the bed. 

“Sounds good,” Peter nodded with a forced smile. It was good, really. Peter was getting sick of being in the same two rooms all the time and was craving the feeling of home. The same beige walls were wearing on his mind, and he was finding a whole lot of pent-up energy he had no outlet for. 

The only sound in the room was the whirring of a couple of machines around his bed. He no longer needed the heart rate monitor, but he still had a morphine drip and a couple of other appliances to track his health. It had actually been quite a fight to get rid of the stupid machine, but he’d managed to convince the doctors that the continual beeping was doing way more to harm his health than it was helping. Right now, though, Peter almost wished for something to break the awkward tension that was building in the room. It shouldn’t feel this way between the two of them, between Peter and his dad. 

Their relationship had changed so suddenly. Even the week before his pops left, the two of them were up late in the workshop, working on one of Peter’s school science projects. Pops had gotten a little bit annoyed that Tony was letting, and even encouraging, Peter to adopt his habit of staying up to an ungodly hour down there, but eventually relented once they’d managed to convince him that it was all for the sake of school work, and then even Steve couldn’t put up much of a fight against the two of them. 

“So uhh-” Peter began. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” His dad cut in eagerly. He shot his hand out to latch onto Peter’s in a comforting manner. 

“What happened Dad? Why’d you ignore me like that?”

“Trust me, Peter, it was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel ignored.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I did feel that way though.”

“I just…,” Tony hesitated, swallowing loudly before continuing. “Your Pops left because of me, Pete. I pushed for these accords, evidently too hard. I just…I know that last time he left us, you took it hard. I know there was a part of you that blamed yourself for something you had absolutely no control over, and I mean that Peter, nothing that happened back then was in any way your fault. I just didn’t want that happening again. I thought that if I could get him to come back home before things escalated, then everything could go back to normal, sweep things under the rug, you know...I didn’t want to have to explain to you that he’d left again if there was a chance I could get him back. It was my fault he left, so I had to be the one to fix things. You don’t need this kind of stuff on your mind.”

“You guys are my parents. This ‘stuff’ is going to be on my mind whether you’re talking to me about it or not. Sweeping things under the rug is what led us here, Dad. You and Pops never really sorted things out, and it all just festered. I get how you were feeling, but I’m your son. I shouldn’t have to wait to hear everything on the news or see it online.”

Tony looked away guiltily, his eyes glistening slightly with unshed tears.

“Dad...I’m not a little kid anymore. You need to start trusting me with these kinds of things.”

“Alright, I get your point, Pete. I mean, I’ll probably fight you on whether fourteen is really grown up enough to deal with some of these things, but I promise to try harder. I just want you to be a normal kid with the closest thing to a normal upbringing I can give you.”

“I think it’s pretty clear that I’m not exactly a normal teenager, Dad,” Peter replied, gesturing at his body.”

“Yeah, we still need to have that conversation. Don’t expect me to believe your genes just randomly mutated to allow you to stick to things.”

Peter laughed, for what felt like the first time in months, and gripped onto his dad’s hand a little tighter. Tony only hesitated for a second before reaching over and pulling him into a bear hug. Having missed out on physical affection from his dad for so long, Peter melted into the embrace and buried his head into Tony’s shoulder. Tears forced themselves down his cheeks but judging by the small sniffles he could hear against his cheek; his dad was crying too.

“We’ll make this right, Pete. We’ll be a family again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes x  
> Thanks for reading :)


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